“I didn’t know how the Crown could be removed,” Antigone intervened. “And, even if I did, how could I get through lines of soldiers?”
“Oh don’t be so coy, Antigone! It was quite easily done. You’d work on Jocasta. She would give you the password. But, there again, perhaps she didn’t, because it wasn’t really necessary, was it? What we have are a squad of soldiers outside the shrine of Oedipus. They are truly bored. The shrine is quiet, the olive grove a sea of darkness around them. From the camp they can hear the sound of revelry as their fellow countrymen celebrate their great victory. They would be slightly resentful. Thebes was no more. Why should they waste their time guarding a deserted shrine? You played the same game again. If Jocasta could slip out at night, why not you? You could make up any excuse. You wanted to see that everything was safe. Or to walk through the trees. Or to take the night air. Why should Jocasta object? The high priestess had been given the solemn word of Alexander of Macedon that she and all her household were safe. I am speaking the truth, aren’t I?”
Antigone, tight-lipped, just stared back.
“Don’t you object?” Miriam asked.
“I am a priestess,” Antigone replied. “But I do love a good story, Israelite. So far you’ve no evidence.”
“Oh, but I have.” Miriam leaned forward. “More than you know.” And, at last, she saw her opponent’s confidence slip-a quick blink, a licking of the lips. “He’s told me.”
“You’re a liar! He’d never say.” Antigone’s hand went to her lips.
“Who’d never say, Antigone?”
“I cannot and will not betray myself,” the priestess replied. “You have me tangled, trapping me with words. You come here with a story and now you are going to allege that I, who did not know the secret, persuaded Macedonian soldiers to let me through their lines.”
“Ah, yes,” Miriam replied, “so let me tell you about the honey cakes and wine.”
CHAPTER 14
“Imagine. .” Miriam felt as if she were telling a story to Simeon. “Imagine the soldiers on guard outside the shrine of Oedipus. Suddenly a young priestess, your good self, comes out of the olive grove. You carry a basket of food and drink, those honey cakes and that delicious wine you serve your guests. You claim it’s a present from the chief priestess. The soldiers eat and drink and, as they do so, consume the sleeping potion with which you’ve laced both the drink and the food. I can’t imagine a soldier on earth who’d refuse such a gift, and what threat could a young priestess pose? They are soon unconscious. Your accomplice then appears from the trees. The key is taken, you open the main doors of the temple and go into the vestibule.” Miriam paused. “Now, I don’t know if you used the password, pretending to be Jocasta, or just persuaded the soldiers inside to lift the bar. After all, if the officer in charge had let you through, why shouldn’t they?” Miriam glanced over her shoulder at the window. She wondered if Simeon had the sense to leave his post and come into the house.
“Your accomplice hid in the shadows of the vestibule. The front doors of the temple were locked, the soldiers inside would think their commanding officer had locked you in. They would certainly suspect no danger. Again the gifts were offered. The potion you gave them would work quickly. In a short while they were asleep, and then you took the Crown.”
“But I didn’t know how to! That was a secret.”
“No. There are two possibilities. First, like me, you could have discovered that the iron bar was the means to remove the Crown. Second, by that time Jocasta was dead. Her pectoral had been removed, the clasp undone, and what was inside? A piece of papyrus that revealed the secret? Jocasta’s dream suited your purposes: there would be no question about you slipping out of your bedchamber. And if anyone had noticed it, in the chaos and turmoil following Jocasta’s death, they would have thought you’d simply gone looking for her. Anyway, you removed the Crown, and your accomplice, with his club, smashed in the brains of the soldiers sleeping inside the shrine. You then relocked the door and did the same to the guards outside. You took the remains of the food and drink you’d brought and fled back to the priestesses’ house. Your accomplice returned to the olive grove where he burned Jocasta’s corpse before returning to the citadel. No one would have noticed you had left, and until the theft and Jocasta’s death, Macedonian soldiers were at liberty to wander where they wished.”
“And if what you say is true,” Antigone demanded, “why should I have done all this?”
“Because you’ve got a soul as dead as night! Because you are bored, but above all because you are a Persian spy!”
“That’s nonsense!”
“No, it isn’t. Persian spies are as many as sparrows in a tree. They work throughout Greece, particularly in the principal cities, places like Thebes and Athens where resistance to Macedonian leadership is the most intense. Persia didn’t care whether Thebes stood or fell. In fact, Darius would have been delighted that Alexander was provoked into devastating a principal Greek city. He will be even more pleased when the Crown of Oedipus arrives in Persopolis. How he’ll crow with triumph! How lavish his rewards will be for this spy who achieved so much, who soured Alexander’s great victory! He could fabricate some story.” Miriam waved her hand. “How the gods of Greece gave this Crown, which so mysteriously disappeared, to the king of kings in Persia.”
“Why would the Persians use someone like me?”
“Oh, they probably met you through Pelliades. Priestesses hear all the gossip. They can influence events, especially one like you who, perhaps, had grown bored with tending a small shrine and living in a house with priestesses you didn’t give a fig for. The Persians must have been delighted with your work, particularly when you ensnared an officer in the garrison at the Cadmea.”
“But you have no proof.” Antigone stretched out her hand. “Where is the proof? Who is this accomplice? Where is the gold the Persians are supposed to have given me?”
“Oh, you’d collect it as you travel,” Miriam replied. “And it would be nothing to what you’d receive in Persia. Alexander will question you-well, not in person; Hecaetus the Master of the King’s secrets will do that. And then, of course, your accomplice.”
“What, Alcibiades?”
“Oh, no,” Miriam retorted. “He was your protection. I am sure your uncle asked who the spy was. You gave the enigmatic reply, ‘a disciple of Socrates,’ a reference to Alcibiades. A good choice, a man well known for his liking of women’s clothing. Poor Alcibiades would protect your lover and, at the appropriate time, divert suspicion-”
“From me? I had nothing-”
“From you,” Miriam continued softly. “Your lover did that by slaying the two Cretan archers; he came back to the grove and caught them unawares. His attack on the house was cunning; he might kill me and end my snooping as well as divert any suspicions that there was any collusion between himself and a priestess.”
“Give me his name,” Antigone gibed.
“No, why don’t-” Miriam stopped: Antigone had taken a knife from underneath the pillow and was balancing it in one hand.
“What are you going to do?”
“We were talking here,” Antigone replied, “and this secret assassin, this shadow known as Oedipus, came through the open window.”
Miriam got to her feet, rolling her cloak around one arm. In the grove of Midas both girls and boys had been taught to fight, but she always felt so clumsy. Antigone was now balancing on the balls of her feet, and she held the knife expertly. Miriam backed to the window.
“Simeon!” she screamed, “up here!”
She picked up a stool and threw it. Antigone sidestepped. It crashed into the wall as Antigone struck, lithe and swift as a cat. Miriam sidestepped but stumbled. Antigone turned. Miriam caught the hand holding the dagger and desperately struggled to grasp the other, which was pummeling her stomach and chest. All she had to do was stop the dagger from coming down. Antigone was strong and agile. Miriam found it hard to press the dagger back. She heard a pounding on the door, the latch rattling but Antigone must have locked it behind her. The dagger came down. She was aware of Antigone’s glaring eyes but she watched the blade, feeling the muscle ripple in the wrist. Miriam freed her other arm, smacking the heel of her hand into Antigone’s chin. Antigone staggered back. Miriam was now aware of the crashing against the door. Simeon must have arrived with the soldiers. Antigone stood upright, even as the lock began to splinter. One minute she had the dagger out and the next she turned it, driving the blade deep into her own heart. All the time her eyes watched Miriam, a faint smile on her lips, even as the blood bubbles appeared. Miriam stood tense; she found she couldn’t move. Antigone came toward her, one hand out, the other still grasping the dagger hilt; her eyes rolled up and she crashed to the floor. Miriam crouched down beside her, watching the blood pump out of her mouth.