“Mother, you keep riding. I’m taking Azov with me. We need to find out who the horsemen are,” Ismarus said to Calysto.
Calysto would not listen. She said to Ismarus, “I will come with you son. If something happens to you, I cannot forgive myself. Do not forget, I have the Spartan blood in me. You cannot dissuade me from defending my only child.” Upon saying this, Calysto took out her sword from its scabbard, and brandishing it to Ismarus, she added, “Let this sword decide, who’s to live, and who’s to die. I am ready for the battle ahead of us. Now let’s go and find out together, who have been following us.”
As the distance between the two groups diminished, it became apparent who the pursuers were. Their dress up, their approach told Ismarus and his companions all they needed to know. The two groups galloped at full speed for the confrontation. For reasons not totally clear to Ismarus, the approaching band of assassins refrained from using their bows. Perhaps, they did not count the old jester and Calysto as worthy adversaries. The two groups galloped in triangles, the leader at the forefront, while the companions rode abreast, covering the flanks of the leader, a few feet behind. None of the combatants carried shields. Hence, the first few blows could be fatal. Habitually, Ismarus began the confrontation with a defensive posture, blocking the blow of his adversary with his sword, as he passed by. Calysto and the jester followed his technique. Prior to the struggle, Ismarus had advised them not to waste energy on aggressive posture, and like two obedient pupils, they followed his advice. Once, Ismarus had managed to overcome his adversary, he was to turn his attention to one of the men fighting against Calysto or the jester.
While the clash of the swords continued, at one point, the old jester lost his sword to a tremendous blow of his adversary. Helplessly, he watched the assassin raising his sword to finish him off. Just when the glistening sword was about to come down, cutting the jester in two pieces, a sharp slanting blow from the rear slashed the assassin to the ground. No words could describe the sense of relief and joy in the jester when his eyes met the sight of the man mountain with his gigantic curved sword. He literally goaded the assassin fighting against Calysto, off the cliff, along with his horse. A few moments later, Ismarus was done with the paid killer who had come to kill him.
Two dead assassins lay on the ground while the jester restrained their horses. As Ismarus suspected, the assassins each carried a pouch full of drachmas. This time around, each pouch contained fifty bronze drachmas.
“Here’s your reward,” Ismarus shouted at Papyrus while tossing the pouches.
“What shall I do with this?” with a broad grin on his lips Papyrus asked Ismarus.
“Keep one pouch for my little sister, and give the other one to your mother-in-law. I hope after this, no one will remember, once you were an orphan. Now tell us what brought you back to your old friends.”
As they rode on, Papyrus narrated to his friends how he came across the three assassins trailing Ismarus and his companions. Not long after he had parted, he saw the three men riding through the forest. At first, they seemed like ordinary travelers. However, after following them to the base of the hill, when one of them pointed at Ismarus and his companions, Papyrus was convinced of their intention. Anyway, the good thing was, he reached the top of the hill in time. Even a slight delay would have ended the jester’s life.
When it was all over, the four sang songs, told stories, and Papyrus rode with his friends, all the way to the gate of Sarmizegetusa. On the way, they passed beautiful lakes, glades, grain fields. Ismarus and Papyrus rode ahead of Calysto and the jester. From the rear, Calysto stared at the two, riding abreast like two brothers.
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Softly she would say, “I wish, I wish,” then she hesitated.
The jester was clever. In order to finish what Calysto wanted to say, he said, “I wish, Ismarus had a brother.”
Calysto sighed and smiled at the jester. “You are so good at reading people’s thoughts. How did you acquire this virtue?”
“Your highness, you have to be with people, you have to be able to place yourself in their shoes. You have to have compassion, understanding. That’s the easiest way.”
“What stopped you from passing a bit of this virtue to your deceased master? If you had, perhaps he would have been alive as we speak.”
“Your highness, it may sound improbable, but it’s true. Virtue is not taught. It’s passed down from generation to generation. The virtues we see in Ismarus, he has acquired all this from you. Luckily, he has avoided all the vices my late master boasted of. Ah, what a wonderful king we could have had in Ismarus. The loss is not yours, your highness. The loss is ours, the poor subjects of Odrysia.”
For a while, the two rode quietly behind Ismarus and Papyrus. And then, Calysto broke the silence. She said, “You have not answered my question. You evaded it.”
“What was the question, your highness?”
“Why did you not try to point out the errors in his judgment?”
“No one knows better than you, the fiery disposition of your late husband. He loved living in his delusions. It’s very dangerous to point out the truth to this kind of people. Nonetheless, when the opportunity presented itself, I tried to tell him. But he just brushed them aside, questioning my motive. Therefore, I just left him to his devices. Eventually, it got him exactly where his assassin wanted him.”
“Did you even warn him about Eumoplus?”
“No, not directly. Indirectly, yes. On a number of occasions, I referred to his nephew’s wicked nature. The thing is, most of the times, when I was with my late master, Eumoplus was there too. Hence, it was not possible for me to be too direct. However, on those few occasions when I tried to warn him, he would just stare at me, thinking perhaps my intention was to vilify Eumoplus. In my entire life, I have never seen such mistrust and contempt, directed against one’s own son. I still do not get it. Why, why? Surely, you could have done something about it, Your highness.”
“You were quite eloquent about your limitations. Perhaps, I had greater limitations.”
“At least, when he was in his private quarters ___________,”
“Do you know what he loved to do in his private quarters? I wish I could tell you. It would be utterly inappropriate and a breach of trust if did. I was the queen consort. I just couldn’t go on telling publicly where my king stood, how he behaved, or how stupid he had been. It will be the height of betrayal.”
“Beg your pardon, your highness. I did not mean to intrude into your private life. It’s just that, many have the same question.”
“Well, they will have to live with the mystery if they cannot look through the veil of secrecy, common to all royal households.” Then, with the intention to divert the attention away from the topic, she pointed to a colorful bird, and said, “Isn’t that beautiful?”
“It is. It’s a kingfisher. There must be a pond somewhere near.”
The kingfisher flew past the four riders, with Calysto throwing a kiss at the beautiful bird.
“Ismarus inherited your love for the birds and animals,” the jester remarked.
“He has, he has. I am so glad, he’s not at all like his father, at least, mentally,” Calysto said while smiling at Ismarus.
“I just cannot figure out why, father had to be so cruel, so ruthless,” Ismarus said to Calysto.
“It had to do with the atmosphere he grew up in. For survival, he could not afford to display any kind of tenderness in him. His enemies could take it as weakness. At least, that’s how I see it, and I could not blame him. It’s like living with a pack of hungry wolves. The moment a member in the pack displays weakness, the other wolves turn against it. Apart from that, predatory animals pick out the weakest in a herd before going for the kill.”
“Are we like the animals?” Ismarus had to ask.
“In many ways, perhaps we are. And in many ways, perhaps we are not. We can argue all day, still I do not think we can be certain,” Calysto said quite cheerfully.