Parmenion masked his irritation and joined them; he did not like his daily run to be disturbed or interrupted. Nevertheless he bowed politely to Calepios, the orator returned the bow and the three men sat at the new marble bench by the Grave of Hector.
‘There has been an unusual turn of events,’ said Calepios. ‘We were preparing to sign the Treaty of Peace when Epaminondas noticed that the word Boeotian had been changed to Theban. He asked why this was so, and Agisaleus told him that Thebes – and not the Boeotian
League – was currently the power north of the Peleponnese. Epaminondas reminded him that he was the representative of the League, not merely of Thebes. But the Spartans remained firm. Either Epaminondas signed for Thebes – or he did not sign. All others have already signed, Parmenion. Epaminondas asked for a further three days to consider the matter and report back to the League. That is why I am here. What is Agisaleus planning? Why would he do such a thing?’
‘To separate us from Athens. If all cities sign – save Thebes – then we are outcasts. Sparta could march against us without fear of attack from Athens.’
‘The Athenians would never allow it,’ said Calepios. ‘They have been with us from the start.’
‘Not quite,’ Parmenion pointed out. ‘It needed a Spartan invasion to spur them on. But they must be starting to see the Boeotian League as a possible threat. The Athenians have long coveted the title of leaders of Greece. If they sit back and watch Thebes and Sparta rip each other to shreds, who prospers but them? They can gather the pieces.’
‘Therefore,’ said Pelopidas, ‘we should sign. What difference does it make?’
Parmenion laughed and shook his head. ‘A great warrior you may be, Pelopidas, but avoid the area of politics. If Epaminondas signs, it will be a message to all democrats in Boeotia that Thebes has declared herself the ruler of all. It would sunder the League. It is a clever ploy. Agisaleus is as cunning as ever.’
‘What then is this all about?’ asked Pelopidas. ‘Will he sign, or will he not?’
‘He cannot,’ said Parmenion. ‘If he did, it would mean a slow, sure death for the League. Instead we must muster the army. Agisaleus will come now, for sure.’
‘We cannot just muster the army,’ put in Calepios. ‘We are a democracy. First the seven elected Boeotian generals must be summoned; that is part of the constitution. And one of those generals is Epaminondas.’
‘A rule devised by idiots,’ snapped Parmenion. ‘What will you do, Pelopidas? You are one of the Seven.’
‘I will order the Sacred Band to re-form, and gather what hoplites I can from Thebes and the surrounding areas. All we can do now is to alert the other cities and request troops. We cannot order them.’
‘A wondrous beast is democracy,’ said Parmenion.
*
It was almost dawn when Parmenion left for home, walking the deserted streets and avenues, past the fountains and the moonlit statues. He moved with care, avoiding narrow alleys, his hand on his sword-hilt. As he crossed an open square he saw a dark, hooded figure sitting by a walled pool. Anxiously he cast his eyes around the square, but there was no one else in sight, nor any hiding-place behind which an assassin could lurk. Parmenion walked on.
‘No greetings for an old friend?’ came the dry voice of Tamis, as he sought to pass. He stopped and turned; the old woman raised her head and smiled.
‘Are you human or spirit?’ he asked, feeling the chill of the night breeze on his skin.
‘I am Tamis,’ she replied.
‘What is it you require of me? Why do you haunt me, woman?’
‘I require nothing, Parmenion. I am an observer. Are you content?’
‘Why should I not be? And give me no more of your false prophecies. Thebes still stands – despite your words.’
‘I did not say she would fall in a day,’ said Tamis wearily, ‘and my prophecies are never false. Sometimes I wish they were. Look at you, young and in your prime, feeling immortality in your veins. You look at me and you see a walking corpse seeking a suitable grave. You see wrinkled skin and ruined teeth. You think that is me? You think this is Tamis? Look again, Parmenion,’ she said, rising and pushing back the hood. For a moment she was bathed in moonlight so bright he could not bear to look upon her, then it cleared. Standing before him now was a young woman of breath-taking beauty, her hair gold, her lips full,