The Three Sons of Euphorion Chapter 5

In the rosy dawn of the next morning, the household of Euphorion was awakened to the shouts of shepherds. The Peloponnesians had packed up and gone. Panic seized the household. The Athenian dogs would soon be burning the estate and putting every man, woman, child and animal to the sword. Euphorion ordered all his family, slaves and his favourite horse and dog into the house and all the doors and windows be bolted. Everyone took refuge in the central hall. Euphorion knelt before the shrine of Athena and began a familiar hymn to the God. All his family and slaves joined their voices to their master. They sang a thanksgiving to the beneficence of the Godess and public safety for all her servants.

Standing between his two brothers behind his father with the women around them, Aeschylos sang fervently and inwardly hoped Zeos did not know about his treason last night. The boy sanguinely recalled he had only inwardly thought therefore how could even Zeos eavesdrop? Then from the hills far away they all heard the tumult of many angry voices. The women began to scream. The dog barked. The two younger sons grasped their father's and brother's arms. The sky seemed to fall when they saw a film of fear cross in an instant over their guardians' eyes.

Then Euphorion straightened himself and cast his angry and defiant eyes over all his charges. The hall fell instantly silent except for the distant encroaching sounds.

Euphorion's voice boomed.
My two elder sons and I will leave you to put on our armour. Empedocles will take charge.

The steward instantly stepped in his master's place. He ordered the slaves to store furniture against the doors. He and the most trusted slaves armed themselves with wood blocks and pokers from the hearth. Euphorion and his two sons marched to the arsenal store room. Euphorion opened the door with a key that he alone possessed at all times. Once he had inwardly locked the door, Euphorion grasped his sons to his chest and kissed them.

He murmured to his sons.
Once the Athenian dogs break in, we will be their meat. Unless the Gods favour us at last, the next time we meet might be in the ghostly heroes' martial fields. To preserve our name as glory for all time, we must slaughter as many Athenians as we can before they slaughter us.

His sons stripped off their tunics and Euphorion dressed them in their hoplite battle gear. He solemnly pulled over their heads their crested helmets and fitted them with their greaves, shield and spear. Then he too stripped before them and they dressed him. The two men and the boy noticed with private shame no battle scar lined any one of them. There were on all of them memorable scars that criss-crossed their legs and arms. But they were battles against mere wolves and lions. The long prosperity and diplomacy of the Pisistratidae had stolen from the aristocracy their right to hunt men. Now they breathed gusts of the Attic air and remembered what it meant to be free. Euphorion put his arms around his sons and they chanted together a prayer to Ares.

Then Euphorion discovered he had lost the key. He swore at fate. They futilely kicked the store room door. They frantically searched high and low. The shouts of the Athenians grew louder. They now could understand their words. Between laughter and songs to Ares and Aphrodite, they cursed their aristocracy and promised blood thirsty retribution for selling them into slavery and cruel punishments in the days of the draconian law coder Dracon. The women began to scream again, the dogs to bark. Then when all seemed lost to the cruel fates, there was an unnerving silence. Then even more unexpected, there was a gentle knock on the store door. Then the knob turned and the door slowly opened.

Euphorion gripped his sons and they stared at the door. Empedocles nonchalantly entered. In his hand there was a mysterious key. It seemed to the terrified boy he was trying not to laugh. He saluted his masters. He said he had left the house and spoken to the Athenians. Cleisthenes himself, when reminded of the past deeds of Euphorion for the city, had ordered all the Eleusinian estates to be guarded by his own armed retainers. He had invited all the Eleusinian aristocrats to meet him at his camp to discuss the new constitution and the vital role of the aristocracy in the new Athens. Euphorion agreed with alacrity. He glanced side long at the key in Empedocles' hand. Empedocles handed the key to Euphorion.

Your key, master, he said carelessly.

Euphorion nodded, too stunned to reply. They all left the store room. They found in the hall everyone gossipping. With their heads held high they marched through the silent crowd out of the house. The epheboi, who were the light armed foot soldiers from the poorest class of Athenians, had ringed the estate. Behind them men with knives and axes silently and malevolently stared at them. They parted like angry bulls when the three hoplites pushed past them. Euphorion stared them down and commanded these wastrels to return to their sheep and goats and not meddle in politics. Some hid their faces, one young man with one twisted eye spat at the feet of the hoplites. Then they silently disappeared over the hill.

Aeschylos was glad he had regained his pride in his father. When they climbed over the hill, they saw the temple sanctuary was now a smoking ruin. The three hoplites cursed together and shed tears at this sacrilege of the Athenian scum. When they reached the Athenian camp, they learnt King Cleomenes in a fit of bad temper had burnt and looted the temple. Everyone said Sparta would pay for that by the Gods.

At that moment, the Eleusinian aristocrats no longer saw dog men but fellow Athenians. All the aristocrats let out a gasp when they saw coming out of the camp to greet them a smiling gentle looking old man in hoplite armour. They clustered around him and kissed his cheeks. They chanted in a roar of acclamation, the name, ‘Cleisthenes law giver!’
Yesterday's demagogue told them he needed them to build the new Athens that would be built on justice and equality before the law.

All the aristocrats discovered with surprise they had always secretly pined for that. Anyone who ever didn't was a greedy oligarch cursed for ever by the patron Goddess of Athens, Athena, and ought to be exiled at once.