Protogenes later presented the panel with the three superimposed lines on it to the city, as a memorial of his extraordinary contest with Apelles. It hangs today in the temple of Apollon on the akropolis, attracting more attention by its narrow lines on a blank surface than any of the other paintings there.
I succeeded in avoiding Kallias until the head of the statue of Demetrios was cast and the finished statue riveted together on the edge of the marketplace, at the beginning of the third year of the 118th Olympiad.
When the last rivet was in place, Kavaros and I climbed down the ladder amid the cheers of the onlookers. I sent Kavaros to Kallias' house with news of the completion of the work. The Kelt came back to say that the official viewing would be the next morning, and would I please be there?
This time there was an official party. Kallias prowled around the statue, peering at it from all angles as if he had not long before made up his mind to accept it. At last, with judicious frowns and nods, he said:
"I find this statue a very creditable work and recommend that the city accept it."
President Damoteles said to the assembled Counciclass="underline" "You have heard our architect, gentlemen. How say you?"
All the Councilors voted "aye." Damoteles spoke in praise of the statue and motioned a slave, who handed him a bag of coins. He presented this to me amid more cheers. Then he invited me to dinner.
I went, so excited that I was sure I could never eat a bite. The meal disillusioned me a little, for the talk among Damoteles and his friends was almost entirely either of finance or of local politics, two subjects that have always bored me to the screaming point. The few younger men talked of sports, which from my point of view was but little improvement. When I could, I hid my work-roughened hands, feeling ashamed of their contrast with those of the other diners, soft and smooth and rosy.
Nonetheless, I was happy; for, I thought, I had at last arrived. I would make these rich and important men respect me at all costs, no matter what trials I had to undergo.
The next day was the one day in ten that the crew of the catapult Talos devoted to drill. Now that all the crews of Bias' battery (save that of unhappy Eros, which continued to fumble) had attained a fair accuracy, Bias was training us to speed our loading.
"If you can shoot twice as fast as the enemy," he said, "it's the same as having twice as many catapults. Now, cockers, put your backs into it this time. We'll start loading when I blow this whistle and see who gets off his dart first."
Talos barely beat Artemis, our rival for first place in the battery, commanded by Phaon of Astyra. When the drill was over and the battery rumbling back through the suburbs, I asked Bias if I might speak to him privately.
"Sure," he said. "What's on your mind, Chares? I'd say you was coming along pretty good, though you've still got a ways to go. When you started with us, I wouldn't have bet on you to last a month."
"It isn't that," I said, "but another thing. Can I trust your confidence?"
"Ever hear of me doing different from what I said?"
In a low voice I told Bias of my relations with Kallias. "It's driving me mad," I said. "He'll be around tomorrow to collect a quarter of my fee for the Demetrios, leaving me with nothing to show for my work. Moreover, he will probably want a similar commission on the next statue, the Antigonos. What can I do? I would not spend my life working solely to enrich Kallias. Have you had trouble of that sort with him?"
Bias tramped a while in silence. Then he spat. "That temple-robbing sodomite! Yes, he tried the same thing on me. First it was just a little gift, which I didn't mind; but he's greedier than a purple shell, and it got to be a big bite out of my gross fees. I finally told him to go jump in the harbor."
"But didn't he—ah—"
"Threaten to bar me from future contracts? Oh, sure. But, you see, I've been doing contract work for the full citizens for thirty years, and they know I don't fool around. So he don't scare me. You, being a beginner, wasn't in such a good position."
We neared the Great Gate. One of the two towers flanking it was half hidden in> scaffolding, the beginnings of the great sluing crane that Kallias proposed to erect.
Bias gestured. "Take that damned thing. I keep building it like he says to, but I know it won't work. This bastard has some real bright ideas, see, but no practical engineering experience. When I heard he was a torsion man, I thought he was going to be pretty good, but it turns out he can't add two and two. So nothing comes out like he expects.
"I try to tell him that, with his design, his crane will lift maybe ten 'or twenty talents; but talking about lifting a belfry or a tortoise, weighing thousands of talents, is drivel. So he looks wise and says: 'I shall consider your point, my good man, and make such modifications in my design as seem indicated.' Next day he says: 'We shall add cross bracing here, and use a rope of heavier gage there, with more men on the crew.' So now he's got a crane that can lift maybe thirty talents. But as for hoisting a belfry, it's like trying to spit on the moon. And every time he changes the design, the part that's already built has got to be taken down."
I said: "It's too bad the city's time and money should be wasted, with war and invasion impending. Would it do any good to complain to the Council?"
"Ah, they're all in it together. What do you suppose this rise in prices is, but some smart scheme to make the stinking-rich richer and us poorer? I might make trouble for Kallias, but it wouldn't do me no good. They'd say I was a subversive element."
"But what shall I do about Kallias?"
"Well, son, in dealing with friends of the rich, it don't pay to hoist the red flag if you don't have to. They stick together, right or wrong. And since you promised Kallias a cut on the Demetrios, you might as well give it to him as make a mortal enemy of him by refusing. But at the same time, like they say, putting up with old wrongs is asking for new ones. If I was you, I'd turn him down on any more commissions. Now the first statue's up, you've got a reputation to trade on, see? If the Antigonos turns out as good as the Demetrios, it wouldn't be easy for Kallias to say to the Counciclass="underline" 'This second statue's a piece of junk; turn it down.' You might even tell him you've compared notes with his other contractors, and if he wants to fight you'll have friends on your side. No names, though."
When he had secured the catapults in the armory, I set out for home with Kavaros. At the marketplace I stopped to admire my Demetrios. There was a waterfront loafer named Aktis, who made a little money by guiding parties of travelers about the city, pointing out the monuments, the quays, and the temples.
Now Aktis was haranguing a dozen about my statue. To hear him talk, one would think that the great Chares had already surpassed the achievements of Pheidias, Bryaxis, and Lysippos put together. While I knew that this was not true (however self-conceited I may have been), it braced my self-confidence to hear it.
And none too soon. When I reached my studio, intending to take advantage of the long summer day, I found the fleshy form of Kallias already there, lolling in my chair and smiling sweetly.
"Rejoice!" he said. "How is the eagle-eyed artilleryman?"
"Well enough, O Kallias. What brings you here?"
"You know, my dear colleague. Dismiss your slave, and we will talk."
When I had sent Kavaros away, Kallias said: "Now, my commission on the Demetrios, please."
I silently counted out the money.
"Many thanks," he said, letting the glittering stream of coins pour into his wallet. "There will, of course, be the same arrangement on the Antigonos."