“And as to the restlessness of our nature, Athenians, in my view this is not imperfection of character, but evidence of vigor and enterprise. Our fathers did not drive back the Persian by propping their feet at the fire, or gain their empire watching their children play in the yard. Nicias says that fruits bear in their season. I say the season is now. To our friend's assertion that security is best derived from a posture of precaution and defense, that may be true for other nations, but not for us. For an active people to change her ways is fatal. It is in our nature to venture far and boldly. This, and not in defense, is where our security resides.
“Nicias speaks of foreign oarsmen: he reproves us that our fleet cannot sail without them, and cites this as a liability. It is proof, he says, that our native resources are insufficient. To me it demonstrates the opposite. In fact nothing could display with more telling measure the depth of our vitality and the magnetism of our mythos. Why do these foreigners come to us and no other nation in Hellas? Because they know that here and only here they may be free.
“And as for the derogation implicit in his assessment of these newcomers as our inferiors, I say he knows them not, and does them and us a disservice. Consider the hazard these men have undertaken, my friends, these whom Nicias devalues and demeans.
They have put behind home and family, native soil and sky; the very gods of their race they have abjured, to venture across oceans to this stranger's land where they may enjoy neither protection of law nor participation in the political process, where they are exempted and excluded, nameless, voiceless, ballotless.
Yet still they come, and no force under heaven may stop them.
Why? Because they know that life at the ends of the earth in Athens is better than life at the center of the universe at home.
Nicias is mistaken, my friends. These foreigners may not be the brick and stone of our nation, but they are the mortar. And they will stick.”
Deafening applause seconded this. Nor was it lost upon the orator's allies, and his foes, that report of his words would peal at once and echo nightlong among the foreign sailors and craftsmen, by whom he would now more than ever be acclaimed patron and champion.
Alcibiades stood, calling for order. When the tumult at last subsided, he turned, absent all rancor or vaunting, and summoned his rival to the rostrum.
“Nicias, you have been appointed senior commander, which your record of service demands and which I honor without reservation. I esteem your wisdom and, not less, your proven luck.
I have no wish to supplant you, sir, but to enlist you wholeheartedly in your country's cause. Help us. Don't tell us why we will fail but how we may succeed.
“I summon you now, sir, not as rival, but as compatriot, to come forward again. The reservations you have voiced are not without merit. Tell us, then, what we need to succeed. Give us hard numbers. Let us hear the stern truth. And I make you this pledge: if Athens will not grant what you believe the expedition needs to prevail, I myself will mount the stand beside you in opposition to it.
“But if she will grant you what you say we require, then I call upon you in like spirit to accede to your countrymen's decree. Do not shirk the command with which she has honored you, but seize it with vigor. We need you, Nicias. Tell us what we must have to make you feel confident of success. ”
Nicias accepted his antagonist's challenge. Mounting at once to the box, he proceeded to detail a seemingly interminable list of supplies and armament, warcraft and materiel, everything from spare masts and sail to parched barley and the bakers and ovens to make it into bread. He demanded overwhelming superiority of sea forces, one hundred men-of-war at a minimum, plus heavy infantrymen in numbers greater than any force the enemy could raise against us, reinforced by an equal number of light-armed troops, archers and slingers to neutralize the enemy's cavalry, since over these leagues of ocean we could not transport our own.
In addition the expedition would require ironworkers and masons, sappers and siege engineers, dispatch craft and troop transports. Alcibiades had asked for hard figures and Nicias gave them. A hundred talents to hire supply ships, two hundred for dumps and magazines along the way, another two hundred to purchase horses for the cavalry on-site, and if the Sicel tribesmen refused us this aid, then the same amount to fund raids to take them by force. Of course this figure did not include the infantry or their attendants, or the seamen or maintenance of the warships.
That would be a thousand talents, with another thousand in reserve. This figure, it was understood, covered just the summer; for winter the sum would double, and if the expedition had not achieved success in the first year, Athens must mount another and send it to the aid of the first. On and on Nicias' necessities mounted. Clearly he anticipated that such massive outlay, set before his hearers in this bald and brutal form, would act as cold water in the face of a dreamer.
But Alcibiades' grasp of his countrymen's character was shrewder than his opponent's. Far from being daunted by Nicias' demands, the citizens declared them excellent and embraced them with animation. The grander the expedition, the more certain they became that it could not fail. As Nicias completed his table of requisition, he perceived, as did every citizen of the Assembly, that he had been outgeneraled by Alcibiades, whose stock with the people mounted higher with each instant his rival sought to bring him low. Now all Athens felt that not only would she soon possess a fleet of insuperable capacity but in Alcibiades a general of spirit and cunning who could not fail to lead it to glory. At one stroke Alcibiades not only had got everything he wanted but, despite his station as junior commander, had seized control of the expedition and made it his own.
XVI
The farm survived, thanks less to my brother's exertions and my own than to the abundantly donated counsel and assistance of various uncles and elders, not to say their liberal advances in equipment, skilled labor, and cash. We had not realized, Lion and I, how sorely missed we had been and how bereft our family, as so many others, in the aftercourse of plague and war. Nothing is so irreplaceable as youth, and none so dear as the prodigal. They could not do enough for us, our senior kinsmen, and wished only to see sons and more sons. My aunt made the trek from the city just to satisfy herself that we were well; stationed beneath the sunshade on her hired carriage's bench, she looked on Lion and me, bare-backed and dirty as dogs, digging a trench for a runoff channel. “Now I can die content.”
I failed to present Eunice that day, nor, calling upon Aunt in town later that month, did I include my mistress. Thus initiated another of those beastly rows, between myself and her, which endure night long and leave one lacerated to the quick.
“What do I lack, Pommo, that you won't take me past your aunt's door? Is my skin not soft enough? Perhaps you fault the shapeliness of my calves. Well, these lines would not show in my face, my friend, or sinew in my shanks, had I not humped at your side through hell and damnation, you ungrateful hound! I am not a citizen, is that it? Then by God, make me one! Pull strings. Engage your fancy friends who make white black and turn it back again!”
Fury boiled from her, long-censored and suppressed.
“I'll tell you why you won't present me to your aunt. Because she seeks a bride for you even now, as she found your virgin Phoebe years ago. Someone proper, of proper Athenian family, with whom you may have children whose names may be set upon the rolls, not alien brats such as a foreign bitch like me would drop, who may not vote or sacrifice or claim their education when you croak in war.”