For the rest of the afternoon, we did not talk of Herakles' coming. The expression on his face haunted me – it was unlike anything I had ever seen. Alexis, who always felt things keenly, was a bundle of different emotions – confusion, interest, reflection, pain and sympathy. However, I could only read them on her face; much as she wanted to tell me her musings, she knew that the only place we could talk freely was later, without mother.
And so we wandered to the courtyard, where Eirene and her mother were cooking fish. It was good weather; the fish smelled appetising to my stomach. I sat down on a bench, nodding to both the slaves, whereas Alexis greeted Eirene as though there were no class distinctions between them whatsoever. In our own home it was easier for this behaviour to happen, and I did not rebuke her for it; also, Eirene had been born at the same time as her, and they had grown up together, so the behaviour was more natural. Outside of the house it was another matter, but tonight I wanted to hear the gossip of the slaves, and so I turned a blind eye to it.
Eirene's mother, Hagne, watched us quietly, but was not so warm as her daughter. Although she accepted that her job was to serve us, that she was our property, and her home was Greece – she had renounced her old name, and had served our household for many years – she missed and still loved her homeland with a passion. She had never fully learnt Greek (although she understood it clearly) and refused to speak anything but her home language. I didn't know what country she came from – somewhere within the Greek empire – but she adored it. Sometimes she dscribed it to Eirene and Eirene translated, telling us of rolling hills and beautiful streams. However, she knew her situation was lucky – she had been allowed to keep her husband, her situation was a pleasant one unlike many Greek slaves, and her relationship with my mother was one of understanding and mutual respect.
We went to the slaves for gossip about Herakles, because they would know the most. Our outings out of the house were limited – out to visit other households, religious observances and such like. The slaves had to go to market and fetch water, so one of them would exchange words with another person outside the family at least once a day. Today Eirene was bursting with news, and as soon as she had greeted us both, she began to talk to both us and her mother.
"I was talking to Kletos – that old codger, he was trying to charge me twice as much as that piece of fish is worth – and I got some good nuggets out of him! I was saying to him, 'Kletos, did you see the hero, entering Mycenae? Some hero, he looked!' He said, 'Well, how did you expect him to look after killing his babies? Triumphant? Glorified?' I admitted, he had a point, because that's a terbile thing to happen to any man, because even though one can't alter the ways of the Gods, it is quite hard luck to have them decide to cause that to be your fate. Cruel, almost." She paused as she placed the fish in a pot over the fire, her mother assisting her.
"He must be heroic," Alexis ventured, "If he is here to atone for his wrong doings. He looked worn down. He looked like a pot that has a piece missing."
"That's what Kletos said, and he offered proof of it to. You know that today is the day he brings the fish up to the palace for the King's servant's to prepare? He found out what happened to Herakles, in his audience with the King. He told me, 'Hereakles stood in front of the king, and bowed down before him, all humble, like he was begging for forgiveness from Zeus himself. He said that he had done things, terrible things, that he had no wish to speak of, but that the king may had heard of. He claimed that in order to smooth his conscience, and in order to stop the burning agony of his soul, which he claimed tortured him day and night, he had to do something good and pure – anything which would help others and atone for his wrongs.'" Eirene paused for effect, seeing that we were all listening, picturing the giant of a man bowed down in front of King Eurystheus – a good man, a fair king, but past his prime. Her voice softer, she continued, "Kletos said that Herakles stated that he placed himself in the hands of King Eurystheus, to do with whatever he saw fit, in order to help his kingdom. This was what the Gods had told him to do, and therefore he was obeying their commands. And then," her voice suddenly became a wisp, as she took a breath of air, "He looked our King in the face, and told him he would rather be dead in order to atone for his sins. And the look on his face was absolute and true. He looked like he wished that the king would kill him there and then."
I recalled Herakles' expression – desperate for death – and shivered. Alexis, I could tell, was there in the room, seeing all, hearing everything, the desperate plea in Herakles' voice, the awe of the king, the astonishment of the servants. Eirene was silent, stirring the fish in the pot. I broke the silence, leaning forward.
"Did Kletos see this?"
"No, a man who serves the wine. But he swore that it was true, every word." Eirene glanced at me. "He said that the King gave him an awesome task, to help our kingdom, and to offload his sins. He is to attempt to kill the Nemean lion."
"What?!" Alexis stumbled out of her reverie, awake and alert. "But that's impossible! He will die!"
Hagne murmured something in her own tongue. Eirene glanced sharply at her, and did not translate. Intrigued, I questioned her. "Hagne? What is it?"
Hagne looked at me, and then nodded at Eirene, giving her permission to translate. Eirene sighed. "This is what Herakles wants. To die." Astonished at the truth of it, I looked at Alexis, who looked back at me, a reflection of my own expression. Was this what the Gods intended? For a man, in agony, to labour in good, but simply to die, his crime was so great? What kind of man could defeat a creature whose skin was like rock, that couldn't be penetrated by arrows or spears? It was a supernatural creature; it was something that had terrorised those around it for years, but nobody could get near enough it to destroy it. As I looked up at the darkening sky, I feared that Herakles had got his wish.