Honor of Thebes
an excerpt

The bathhouses of Thebes were famous. Not only for the fact that they were open even through the coldest of winter days because of a magnificent steam system, but as much for its rumored debauchery, as well. A good citizen of Thebes would vehemently deny this if you asked, of course, but pull him aside, and he would grin, and tell you that the rumors were only half of it.

If you wanted to find the youngest son of Oedipus, you went there, and that is why Polyneices sank into the steaming water and sighed happily. He knew that, inevitably, Eteocles would turn up. Even if he didn’t, someone there was bound to know where he was. Despite his distaste for his brother’s lifestyle, he had to admit that he had taste. The sweeping pillars that rose to the ceiling were pure marble; the floor rippled in green and gold tones of the same. If you didn’t care to bath, you could enjoy a long, luxurious massage to sooth away those aches and pains, and maybe, if you were inclined, you could enjoy the slave attending you, as well.

“Gods,” he said, “I think that I’m an old man.”

Metrophanes flicked some water at his face,

“You are,” he teased, “You should come here more often, Polyneices. You grumble about your brother, but he is making friends and allies while you are entrenched in the affairs of state. And everyone knows that friends are what count when you come to power.”

Metrophanes was the son of (name) and (name) both of noble birth. He and Polyneices had known each other since they began to train in the army, and had become fast friends. Annoyed, Polyneices tossed a handful of water back at him.

“Sometimes, I think that friends are what could keep me from the throne.” he said grimly, “More specifically, you, bubble-brain. Eteocles might be popular, but he’s too easily swayed to be a ruler. Anyway, I came here because I was looking for him, not to start gathering ‘followers’.”

Metrophanes shook his head sadly.

“That is exactly the attitude I was talking about. Too much good sense, and not enough bathing. That’s your problem.”

“How about we don’t discuss what you think is my problem, and talk about something more pleasant until the oh-so popular Eteocles shows his face?” Polyneices seized on the first subject that came to mind. “What about the spring festival?

His friend clapped with exaggerated excitement. A few robed noblemen standing nearby in deep discussion, glanced over in annoyance.

“The games at the spring festival, you mean.” he cried. “Are you going to enter anything? The footraces, the wrestling, anything? Are you too dignified for that? Heir to the throne of the city can’t ‘exhibit’ himself that way?”

“Shut up and I’ll answer. I was thinking of…well, I was thinking of entering the footraces, if it comes to that, and maybe the horse racing. I’m a bit out of practice, though, and I know that there are loads of men that have been training since before winter. I don’t think I really have a chance.”

“Well, you know that the footrace is the thing. Everyone wants to win that.” Metrophanes examined his friend’s physique with a critical eye. “Yes, definitely too much affairs of states, and not enough running.”

“That is why I was looking for Eteocles. If he enters, I’m sunk, he’s a far better runner than I am.” Polyneices’ glare cut his friend short from his witty reply. “I’m not ashamed to admit that, even if I don’t think that flirting with half the men in the city qualifies him to be king.”

He stood and stepped from the bath, accepting the robe that a attentive slave handed him. Metrophanes followed more reluctantly. His blond hair stuck up in limp straggles all over his head and he said, complaining slightly,

“You let him beat you too easily. Come on, why don’t you and I have a race around the track just once. In your frame of mind, I bet that even I could beat you, and I’m only half good at horse racing.”

Although he knew that Metrophanes was only trying to goad him into it, Polyneices rolled his eyes.

“Fine. But don’t be surprised when I leave you behind at the starting line while you wax eloquent over my lack of friends.”

“Then I won’t be surprised when you abandon the race half-way through so that you can start rummaging about some hideously dusty scrolls.”

“My sister could beat you at the footrace.”

Metrophanes, already halfway into his clothes, scoffed.

“You mean that little wispy thing with sad eyes? I don’t think she’s run a step in her life, though very good for a woman, she might not be able to have children if she did.”

“No,” Polyneices said in exasperation, “Not Ismene, Antigone. She always beat Eteocles, anyway, when we went to the sea during the summer.”

He faltered at the expression on his friend’s face. Metrophanes seemed to be struggling not to fall over. His face was screwed up into the oddest expression, finally dissolving into a hearty scream of laughter.

“Hera and Hades!” he shrieked, “Beaten by your own sister, too! Poor Polyneices, your uncle should turn the city over to her right now and we can let the women reign while we run races.”

“She’s certainly got more guts than most of the men in this city,” Polyneices retorted angrily, “At least she remained loyal to Oedipus, while everyone else, including your father, was licking up to Kreon!”

Metrophanes’ eyes light up although he was angry, and he snapped a wet towel at his friend.

“That is what I want to see from you. Now, we can really have a race and see what you can do.”