The Pillars of Hercules by David Constantine Page A

Matthias, “ you were one of the archons—”
    “They needed a scapegoat,” said Demosthenes mildly. “I fit the bill.”
    “You were lucky not to be ostracized,” she said. “Exiled altogether. Now you have to fight for your people behind the scenes.”
    “My obligations didn’t end with my being drummed out of power,” said Demosthenes. “I’m still an Athenian citizen. Now if we could get back to the business at hand—”
    “Your enemies closed the Assembly to stop you from speaking,” said Lugorix.
    There was a moment’s pause.
    “It’s true, isn’t it? You’re the greatest talker in city, so the only way to stop you talking is to let no one talk.”
    “That might be part of it,” admitted Demosthenes. “But it’s all part of the larger problem: at this point, anything could happen if you let the people debate.”
    “But what about if the archons decide?” Matthias asked.
    Demosthenes grinned wryly. “That’s an issue too.”
    “There are appeasers among them,” said Barsine. “That may be why they’ve shut down the Assembly. So they can do a deal with Macedonia. They certainly have no idea how to wage a war against Alexander and Philip.”
    “And you do?” asked Matthias. “Didn’t your whole empire just get its ass kicked?”
    “I’m still fighting,” Barsine snarled.
    “And so am I,” said Demosthenes. He looked at the mercenaries. “And for all your cynicism, I suspect you know that there’s room for neither of you in the world that Alexander is bent on creating. Lugorix—Athens barters with you. Pays you gold for honest labor. They’ve never tried to conquer you. Matthias—the only way your city will ever be liberated is if Macedonia collapses. As for me, I’ve fought Philip since long before he even had a son to afflict the world with. Back when he was just the leader of a small kingdom on the outskirts of Greece. I tried to warn Athens as his power grew. I tried to warn everyone. But by the time they listened, it was too late. Philip had already conquered the northern part of Greece—had seized the Bosphorus in a surprise coup, and secured the Black Sea and Pontus. Then when he turned on Persia, I begged the Assembly to ally with her against Macedonia.”
    “But your people’s hatred of the Persians ran too deep,” said Barsine.
    Demosthenes sighed. “They were too myopic to see the real enemy—too fixated on ancient names like Thermopolae and Salamis, where they’d defeated your ancestors and covered themselves with honor. Past glory is so much easier to dwell in then present danger. Yet even so, I thought the problem was over when Philip was gravely injured fighting the Persian satraps at the battle of Granicus. The man lived, but only as a hollow shell of what he’d once been. I and so many others thought his son was a callow youth—too young to be a real threat, too impulsive to last long. Who would have thought he’d have all his father’s talent and then some? And now we’re talking about what I always feared we would. The very survival of Athens.”
    “Why do you care about Athens?” said Lugorix suddenly.
    Demosthenes’ smile held a trace of sadness. “Her rule isn’t perfect,” he said. “But since she defeated Sparta and conquered Carthage, the Mediterranean has been at peace for the first time in history. Surely that counts for something?”
    Lugorix gestured at Barsine. “I was asking her ,” he said.
    Another pause. Then: “Told you he was the clever one,” said Barsine to Demosthenes.
    “Wait a second,” said Matthias, “what the hell is that supposed to—”
    “She doesn’t care,” continued Lugorix. “Not in the slightest. Persians and Athenians fought wars for almost all of last century. She’s simply interested in defeating Alexander.”
    “I’ve made no secret of that,” said Barsine.
    “You think all Asia should be ruled by your people,” said Lugorix. “By a single Persian king.”
    “He’d dead now,”