‘I’ll see the deed done,’ promised Norac, and Parmenion smiled.
‘The gates are usually shut at dusk. Bring the spikes to the house of Calepios by midday, no later. And have eleven strong men with you.’
Parmenion left the smithy and walked slowly to Calepios’ home. The statesman was eating breakfast and asked Parmenion to join him, but the Spartan refused. ‘Have you heard from Pelopidas?’ he asked.
‘Not yet. You look dreadful, man; your face has lost all colour. Are you ill?’
‘I am fine. Merely tired. The word about your speech must be spread through the city. We need as many people as possible to hear it.’
‘You said that last night. It is all in hand, my friend.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Parmenion filled a goblet with water and sipped it.
‘Go inside and sleep for a while,’ advised Calepios. ‘I will wake you when Pelopidas returns.’
‘Later. How many men will be watching the city gates? No one must leave until Thebes is ours.’
‘There will be ten men per gate. Have no fears; everything is as you planned it.’
‘Some people will bring bows to the Cadmea, hoping for a chance to loose an arrow at a Spartan. All but our own men must be disarmed. There must be no unplanned assault.’
Pelopidas and Mothac entered the courtyard and Parmenion stood. ‘Well?’ he asked.
‘Mothac and I delivered the food. As you thought, we
were left to ourselves in the store-room. I salted the water barrels; there were ten of them. We ran out of salt for the last barrel and I thought of urinating in it, but instead we tipped it over the floor.’
‘Good! Well done,’ said Parmenion, sinking back to his seat. ‘Then we are ready. Have you planned your speech?’ he asked Calepios.
‘Yes,’ answered the statesman, ‘and I will deliver it at the agora just before dusk. There will be a great crowd. Now will you get some rest?’
Parmenion ignored his plea and turned to Pelopidas. ‘What of the councillors?’
The warrior sat down on the bench seat alongside Parmenion. ‘The gods are with us, Parmenion. I am told they will all be at a celebration at the house of Alexandras. They are gathering there at midday; they will eat and drink
– and then send out for whores. We will kill them all – save Calepios’ cousin, Cascus.’
‘No!’ snapped Parmenion. ‘All must die!’
‘Cascus is no longer in the city,’ said Pelopidas, swinging his eyes to Calepios. ‘By a strange stroke of luck, he left two hours ago for his summer estate near Corinth.’
Parmenion’s fist slammed to the table-top and his eyes locked to Calepios’ face. ‘You warned him. You put everything in jeopardy.’
The statesman shrugged and spread his hands. ‘I do not deny asking him to leave the city, but I did not betray anyone. I told Cascus of a dream I had had for three nights, that he died. I told him I had been to the seeress about it, and she had said he had to make a pilgrimage to the Shrine of Hecate at Corinth. All men know how religious Cascus is
– he left immediately.’
‘It was foolish, Calepios,’ Parmenion told him. ‘If we do retake the city, then Cascus will run to the Spartans and they will use him as a figurehead to march upon us. You may have doomed us all.’
The statesman nodded his head. ‘I have no defence to that. But Cascus is of my blood and very dear to me. And, in his own way, he cares for Thebes as much as any of us. But
there is nothing I can do to change my actions – and if there were, I would refuse so to do.’
Parmenion’s head felt as if it were ready to explode. He drank more water and then walked into the house, seeking to escape the brightness of the courtyard.
Mothac followed him. ‘I have seen marble statues with more colour than you,’ said Mothac, as Parmenion slumped on to a divan. ‘I think you need some wine.’
‘No,’ said Parmenion, as his stomach surged. ‘Just leave me for a while. I’ll get some sleep.’