Epaminondas sat up and rubbed his eyes. 'We have allies in Thessaly, but they alone cannot give us victory. Worse, if we ally ourselves to any strong power we will merely be exchanging masters.'
'Where are the strongest Spartan garrisons?' asked Parmenion.
'Orchomenus in the north, Tanagra to the west, Aegosthena to the south. We have men in each of them, trying to inspire a rebellion, but — wisely -
the rebels are waiting to see how we fare. We are caught like dogs chasing our tails. In order to win we need support from other cities, but these cities wait to see if we can win before joining us. We need a victory, Parmenion.'
'No,' said the Spartan. 'That is not possible — yet. My advice to you is to avoid any pitched battle with Cleombro-tus. You would be crushed.'
'We will be crushed anyway — should he march against us.'
Parmenion was silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on a point high and to the right on the northern wall. Slowly he lifted his hand, rubbing at his jaw. Mothac grinned and Epaminondas waited expectantly.
'It could be,' said Parmenion at last, 'that Cascus' escape will work for us. If he has convinced the Spartans that the Theban people are ready to rise against us, then it is unlikely that Cleombrotus will attack the city; he will ravage the land around us, in the hope that a show of strength will cause a counter-revolt. Winter is almost here, and with it the rains. Most of the Spartan army will return home. It is then we will strike.'
'And where should we attack? And with what force?' queried Epaminondas.
'Athens,' answered Parmenion, with a broad smile. 'And we will use the Spartan army.'
Day by day tension within the city mounted. Arguments broke out in public places as to the wisdom of expelling the Spartans. Fear was almost palpable, yet still the Spartan army remained at Megara, two days' march to the southeast. News from the surrounding countryside was bleak. At the small city of Thespiae, north-east of Thebes, a group of rebels besieged the acropolis, where Spartan troops were garrisoned. The Spartans marched out among them, killing twenty-three men and routing the mob. At the cities of
Tanagra and Aegosthena troublemakers were rounded up and arrested, while in Plataea two suspected rebels were executed after a traitor told of their plotting.
Pelopidas marched from Thebes with a force of 400 men to aid the rebels at Tanagra. Hopes were high when the warriors marched ihrough the Proitian Gates but eight days later they were back, having been waylaid in the mountains by a Spartan force. Forty-one men were dead, twenty-six wounded. It was a bitter reverse and yet Pelopidas emerged from the debacle with credit, for when surrounded he had gathered his men to him and charged the Spartan ranks, breaking clear and killing four Spartans single-handedly. The Thebans had sought refuge in the mountains and the Spartans had let them go, not wishing to lose men in the narrow passes with daylight fading.
The Athenian mercenaries were sent to Erythrae, along with 200 Theban hoplites, to aid the rebels there, but no word was heard from them and fear grew among the Theban people. Epaminondas proved himself a capable public speaker, but the rebels missed the oratorical skills of Calepios who remained in Athens.
As winter moved inexorably on, and the rains began, news came from the south that Agisaleus had recovered from his fever.
And the Spartan army moved north.
Parmenion seemed unconcerned, and during the days sat reading Xenophon's story of the march into Persia. As the shortest day of winter approached Mothac walked into the andron, removed his rain-drenched cloak and poured himself a goblet of watered wine.
'It will all be over in days,' said the servant sourly. 'The mood in the streets is full of despair. When the Spartans come, the people will surrender without a fight.'
'//the Spartans come,' replied Parmenion, putting aside the scroll.
'How can you remain so calm?' Mothac snapped.
'By using my mind — and not my emotions,' replied Parmenion. 'Listen to me. Sparta's armies are not trained for sieges, they prefer battle on an open plain. A phalanx cannot climb a wall. I do not believe Cleombrotus will attack the city; he will hope that our forces can be lured out, and he will seek to prevent supplies coming into Thebes.'
Mothac was unconvinced, and ill-fortune continued for the beleaguered Thebans. The Athenian mercenaries had been beaten back from Erythrae, and Cleombrotus marched through Aegosthena and Plataea, his army now almost in sight of Thebes.
Pelopidas wanted to gather a force to attack them, but cooler counsel prevailed. Then came the news Parmenion had been hoping for. With winter making manoeuvres more difficult, Cleombrotus split his army and marched south, back through Aegosthena, Megara and Corinth, leaving a large force at Thespiae under the command of the general Sphodrias.
Parmenion sought out Epaminondas and Pelopidas. 'Now is the time to act,' he said. 'By spring Agisaleus will be fit to command the army, and that will lead to an attack on Thebes.'
'What can we do?' Pelopidas asked. 'My stomach turns at the thought of sitting idle. But what choices do we have?'
'We must capture a messenger, a Spartan rider.'
'One messenger! This is your plan?' snorted Pelopidas. 'This will bring about Spartan defeat?'
Parmenion looked into the man's dark eyes and chuckled. "The time will come for warriors like yourself — trust me, Pelopidas. This single man is like the stone which starts the landslide. But it is vital that he is taken; he must be stripped of armour and clothing, his body buried where it will not be found. Everything he carries must be brought here.'
'It sounds easy enough,' Pelopidas muttered.
'Then I will make it more difficult. The killing must not be seen: his disappearance must remain a mystery.'
'Well, at least his messages may prove useful,' the Theban said.
'Not even that,' said Parmenion. 'The Spartans must have no idea that we have intercepted them.'
'Then would you kindly outline the point of this exercise?' asked the Theban.
Parmenion glanced at Epaminondas, who nodded. 'I shall take the place of the messenger,' said Parmenion, 'and ride to Sphodrias at Thespiae. But this is to be known only by we three.'
'It will be as you say,' promised Pelopidas. 'I will send out riders to watch all roads to Thespiae.'
Parmenion walked back through the night-cloaked city. He felt tense and excited, and as he passed the Temple to Aphrodite he remembered the red-headed priestess. Stopping by the marble fountain he gazed at the temple, feeling the stirrings of desire deep in his loins. Checking his money sack, he strolled into the temple precincts and along the corridor. The hour was late, but lantern light could be seen under the woman's door; he put his ear to the wood, listening for sounds of movement, but there were none and he knocked softly. He heard the creaking of the bed as she rose.
The door opened.
He held out his money and was surprised to see her smile. 'I am happy you are recovered,' she said.
'I do not wish you to speak!' he snapped. The smile froze on her lips, then her cheeks darkened.
'Take your money and go!' she said, slamming the door in his face. For a moment Parmenion stood shocked; then he backed away and returned home to the cold comfort of his bed. The meeting with the woman had disturbed him. She knew he required her to say nothing; he had been with her scores of times. He would pay her, satisfy his lust and leave. It was a simple business. Why then had she broken the rules?
As he had stood in the doorway her perfume had washed over him, filling his senses. And in her face, as he reprimanded her, there had been shock, surprise and a bun he could not understand. He felt an almost physical need to seek her out and apologize. But for what? How had he offended her?