LessonsPythia |
Anacles just would not pay attention. He fidgeted and he fretted and he looked out of the window and he yawned and he just plain looked bored. It was a beautiful day; the sun was warm, the air was sweet and the lambs were busy bleating for their mothers to come and play with them. It was not a day for being stuck indoors to study.
"Bother," his father said eventually, and put down the slate and picked up his son instead, tucking him under his arm and carrying him out into the morning air. "This just isn’t fair, is it, son? You and me, sitting in that stuffy house, studying stuffy letters when we could be out here, learning to be men of the world. But," he sighed, "I promised I’d bring you up right, didn’t I? Give you a better start than I ever had ..." He paused to consider this, studying the squirming boy with a thoughtful frown.
"Come on," he decided with a grin. "Let’s go see your mother, huh?" He lifted the child up onto his shoulders; Anacles giggled with delight and they went piggy-back riding across the hill and down to the little grove of trees where Ania had been laid to rest, three years before. The olive trees had grown tall and were filled with ripening olives; the apple trees were still growing towards full strength and, as yet, had barely a sprinkling of swelling apples hanging from their branches.
Doves scattered from among the olive leaves as the pair approached; the birds had a fondness for the dark pitted fruit and more than one pair had built nests in the grove that year. Iolaus smiled as he watched their white wings flutter up against the sky, remembering how he’s once brought home a pair of the delicate birds, caught among his pigeon traps - and how Ania had scolded him and insisted on setting them free.
"Epsilon, zeta, eta, theta," he chanted, having decided -during the short walk which had helped clear his head and remind him about the important things in life - that the best way to teach Anacles his letters would probably be to turn them into a game. After all, he reasoned, the boy was barely three years old. Why should learning be hard work? The child giggled and sang along, mangling the letter sounds, but having fun all the same. He’ll get it, his father decided with a grin, swinging him off his shoulders and letting him run into the grove on his own sturdy legs. Eventually.
First things first: the hunter paused to check that the trees and the space they sheltered had not been disturbed. He’d had to drive away a herd of wild pigs in the previous autumn, the animals drawn by the sweetness of fermenting fallen apples and the scattering of olive pits that the birds had left behind. There’d been no sign of similar disturbance this year, although the summer was barely over and the fruits not yet ripe enough to fall; later, perhaps, he and Anacles would have the chance to enjoy the bounty of wild pig roasted over a slow fire. If they came in the same numbers, he might even haul a couple of carcasses down for Hercules and his family. Growing children needed to eat, and the son of Zeus now had three eager stomachs to fill - along with his own, of course.
Grinning quietly to himself at the image that conjured, Iolaus finished his inspection of the grove’s boundary - after which he steeled himself to turn and face what lay at its centre. The hurt hadn’t gone away, and - while time spent in this place always helped him feel comforted - it was always prefaced by a reminder of what it was that he had lost.
"Here we are, Ania" he murmured, adopting the smile he always saved especially for her. Finding it had somehow become a little easier this year. Mainly because - like now - it was helped by the sight of their beautiful son, playing among the wild flowers that carpeted her grave. "Back again. He’s growing, isn’t he? So fast now - I - I don’t where the time goes. We started letters today. Didn’t we hotshot?"
"Iota, kappa, lambers, Moo," Anacles caroled, tugging up a grass stalk and waving it like a sword. His father laughed, reaching to snatch a similar stalk and use to offer appropriate challenge.
"Justice," he declared melodramatically, letting the boy’s uncoordinated attack slip under his guard. "Mercy." He feigned a mortal wound and collapsed into the grass beside his son - who immediately climbed onto his stomach and began to pummel him with enthusiasm.
"Kappa, lambda, Mu," the beleaguered hunter pointed out, in between breathless giggles. He rolled over and laughingly pinned the child into the sweet grass, gathering him up and holding him with a father’s sense of wonderment. The boy laughed and squirmed, not fighting to be free as such, just wriggling for the sake of it, happy to be alive.
Lying there - stretched out beside the low mound that now held so much of his heart, and cradling most of the rest of it in his arms -Iolaus had one of those rare moments of matchless insight, born out of perfect happiness and bittersweet loss. Whatever happens, he found himself thinking, breathless with sudden wonder, I will always have this ...
More might have come to him - but Anacles kicked with enthusiasm, and his father gasped with startlement, the moment lost in surge of tear inducing pain. "Ow," Iolaus reacted indignantly, responding to the unwarranted assault with one of his own. Within moments the boy was reduced to helpless howls of laughter, tickled into submission by an expert hand.
"Now then," Iolaus said sternly, staring down at his child with a mock frown that wasn’t fooling the boy for a minute, "are we going to show your mother how well you’ve learned your letters? Are we?"
"Omega!" Anacles shouted with childish delight. He liked the sound of that one and worked at it for a while. "Omegaomegaomega, omega!" Iolaus laughed.
"Perfect," he acknowledged, sitting up and pulling the boy onto his lap. "Alpha to begin and Omega to end. With just twenty four little letters, you’ll be able to uncover the secrets of the entire world. And write them down afterwards," he added, giving the boy a hug and breathing warm air into his mop of unruly curls.
Questioning eyes looked up at him; dark ones, since the boy took after his mother’s side of the family. "Daddy?" Anacles asked happily. "Wha’s lettres for?" His father smiled.
"Reading," he explained. "Writing. Sending messages and warnings and making sure stories are kept safe for everybody. Letters are magical things, Anacles. In Egypt they use over a thousand of them - for making spells and carving prayers and - even for casting curses. But we’re Greek. We’re civilised. And we only have twenty four. So we have to use them wisely. And we have to know them well.
"Sooo ..." he grinned. "What comes after -Sigma?"
"Tau!" The boy waved his arms, confident of victory. He was right, too, which added a seasoning of pride to the enjoyment of the afternoon.
Up on Mount Olympus, a world weary god leant over his scrying pool, watching a mortal man find pleasure in the company of his son. It was a pleasure he envied, since it was one he’d never enjoyed, much as he’d longed for such simple moments. He loved all his children very much, but he’d never found much joy in them. Never that is, until one child in particular had conquered his heart. The child for whom a deep and enduring destined waited - one that would depend on this man, although he didn’t know it yet. "Enjoy the moment, Iolaus," the King of the gods murmured regretfully, knowing some of what the Fates had woven and knowing that it had to happen that way. Because in the end, the future would be written -not by twenty four little letters -but by the hearts and souls of men.
Voices drifted out of the pool; innocent, happy voices, sharing a moment of shining love that nothing would ever dim.
"What comes next?"
"Xi. Omikron. Pi!"
"Yeah? -oh, yeah. Pi. How ‘bout rabbit pie, huh? For supper. Think I could catch a few for supper. Whaddya say?"
Zeus - smiled. And that night, Iolaus was to catch the fattest rabbits that he’d seen in a long time ....
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Disclaimer: The Greek alphabet was not mangled during the writing of this tale - nor was the English one - which stayed in perfect order throughout!
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