Akropolis Page 8

  “As cousin to Nikodemos, I am here to accuse the defendant Alexios of his murder. As prosecutor, I ask the orator Stephanos to introduce witnesses who will testify that the blow that killed Nikodemos was unprovoked. His death was a deliberate and brutal act of murder and has deprived his family of his presence and of their income.”

  Theron continued his speech, describing his cousin as a good man, an honest man, a man who had served his country well and who now was dead before his time. After he finished he sat down heavily and wiped his brow.

  Stephanos now rose and stepped up to the platform. He immediately launched into a detailed account of the events preceding the fight.

  “Athenians, let me describe to you this day in the marketplace when an innocent man died. The magistrate Nikodemos, this Athenian citizen, is on this fateful day doing nothing more than walking down a street near the marketplace, looking for earthenware to buy for his wife, when he realises he has been robbed of his purse containing a large number of coins.

  “What does he do, members of the jury? He quickly retraces his path and discovers not far away a filthy slave girl, busy counting out his money and preparing to flee with it.

  “What would you do, members of the jury? Nikodemos is angry, understandably, and he grabs her to retrieve his purse before she can escape. Upon this, the wretched girl sets up a wailing and screaming such as most in this court would hope never to hear.” Stephanos paused and looked shrewdly at the jury for signs of empathy with a citizen of Athens, assaulted in the street near his home. He saw enough to strengthen his argument.

  “As it happens, the slave Melitta is a servant in the household of Zenon, an aristocrat of privilege and wealth, a statesman and advocate for reforms in…”‌—‌here Stephanos paused‌—‌”…no less than the justice system, members of the jury, the very system by which his son, the defendant Alexios, will be today judged for murder and found guilty! Our Athenian system which gives you, the people, the right to decide the truth based on the facts of the case, the system which gives you the right‌—‌and the duty‌—‌to deliver a just verdict on a defendant who has clearly wronged!

  “Is this the system that is foul, corrupted? Are you corrupt citizens? Was the magistrate Nikodemos corrupt? Or is Zenon determined to free his son Alexios, the defendant, whatever the cost? Whatever it takes?”

  A murmur went through the jury. Seb looked at his notes and wondered how to counter the prosecution’s attack on Zenon. He glanced at Dareios seated in front of him but the orator seemed unperturbed. Seb hoped their evidence was enough to withstand the damaging tactics employed by Stephanos.

  Stephanos had moved on to present the prosecution’s evidence. Seb leaned forward in his seat.

  “Let us now look at the evidence of witnesses‌—‌those who were there‌—‌in order to determine what happened after Nikodemos retrieved his purse from the slave girl.” Stephanos turned and indicated an old man behind him. “Pelagios is a farmer. He was in the crowd that day. Let him speak.”

  The old man shuffled forward. Stephanos encouraged him with a nod and the man started to speak.

  “I saw a fight. There were three of them, the man who was killed and a youth who was attacking him‌—‌not the defendant, another boy, his friend.”

  Stephanos held his hand up to interrupt. He gestured towards Seb. “That would be Sebastian‌—‌a foreign slave, members of the jury, here in the court to testify for the defendant.” He turned again to Pelagios. “So you saw them both attack the citizen Nikodemos?”

  “Yes, both of them. He didn’t stand a chance. The boy, the defendant, came up behind him and hit him hard with a staff. He fell and died, right there in the marketplace.”

  “And this happened with no provocation from Nikodemos?”

  “None that I could see. The fight had begun when I got there.”

  “Thank you, Pelagios.”

  The man hesitated, uncertain. “I think the man might have hurt the girl, the slave, that’s why they did it.”

  Stephanos’s voice rose. “This is the slave who stole money from the citizen Nikodemos? The one who screamed abuse at him for retrieving his purse from her grasp? A young, depraved slave with loose morals!” He turned to the jury. “We might ask, members of the jury, what she was doing on the street with her employer’s son? Why did he defend her so savagely‌—‌enough to kill an innocent man?” With a slight wave of his hand he dismissed the witness. An assistant hurried forward and escorted Pelagios back towards the spectators.

  Stephanos called more witnesses. One by one, a further four citizens who had been in the marketplace at the time came forward to give evidence. Their testimony was clear and unequivocal: there seemed to be no provocation for the attack which caused Nikodemos’s death; he was in the marketplace minding his own business. Indeed, as all the witnesses agreed, the theft of his purse was his business and in retrieving his rightful property from the thief, despite her resistance, he had done no wrong, whether the slave had been hurt or not. According to one witness, Athens was overrun by foreign slaves and discipline was needed to deal with them.

  The jurors had listened especially to the evidence of the last witness, Epaphros, who had declared loudly that he had seen with his own eyes the slave girl steal the purse from Nikodemos. He had seen her move silently up on Nikodemos with the cunning of her kind and lift the purse expertly from his belt before fleeing into the crowd. Epaphros was of the firm opinion that thieves deserved no sympathy.

  There was a pause in the proceedings while Stephanos prepared the final stage of the prosecution’s argument. The herald came forward with wax to stop the hole in the water clock until proceedings resumed. Seb rose, frowning, to help himself to water from a jug. His thoughts were on the defence’s argument. They must destroy the prosecution’s portrayal of Nikodemos. They must discredit Stephanos and reveal his lies and subterfuge. They must claim justice.

  Seb was aware that in Athenian law, there can be no questioning of witnesses by the other side. He knew they needed to refute the false evidence by other means. They had already discussed this at length. Was this what Dareios had in mind?

  He needed to confer with Dareios. He moved to resume his seat behind the orator but a man was blocking his way. The man appeared nervous, and handed Seb a note written on a scrap of rough parchment. Seb glanced at it‌—‌a name‌—‌and looked at the man. “Is that you?” he said.

  The man said quietly, “That’s my name‌—‌Georgios. I wrote it for you to remember when you call for witnesses. I can help you. I would like to speak for the girl. I saw her find the purse, pick it up from the ground. She tried to give it to him but he beat her with his staff. He was crazy with anger, not a good man, like they said he was. He deserved to die.”

  Seb grasped his arm in gratitude. “Thank you,” he said in a low voice, “Come and sit beside me. I am grateful to you, Georgios, for speaking the truth.”

  They took their seats just as Stephanos was about to resume speaking. Seb leaned forward to Dareios, who was reading through his notes. He spoke softly and urgently. “Dareios, we must concentrate on the alleged theft, prove that Melitta is innocent.”

  Dareios turned to him with a questioning look and nodded briefly.

  Stephanos once again addressed the jury.

  “We are now required to examine the reasons why the defendant attacked and killed Nikodemos, with no provocation. You may hear from the defendant that he was provoked, that he was acting in self-defence, that he was defending someone else‌—‌his friend Sebastian, his lover the slave girl Melitta…”

  Someone called out from the jury, “Unfair!” Another juror called out in agreement, “Prove it!” There were more murmurings.

  “As I was saying,” Stephanos said smoothly, “Alexios may make these claims in his defence, but they mean nothing. Nothing! Not when the prosecution has produced several reliable and honest witnesses‌—‌citizens of Athens‌—‌who have given testimony that the defendant�
��s attack was unprovoked, that Alexios delivered the fatal blow from behind, at a time when Nikodemos was fending off attack from another direction, from the defendant’s friend, Sebastian. A foreign slave. A street fighter, I would call him. A man who would use any means of attack to better an opponent who would fight by the Athenian code of combat. You have heard from witnesses who have described his extraordinary fighting techniques‌—‌if we can call such vicious and destructive blows techniques. Kicks to unprotected parts of the body, strikes from hands used as blades. If Alexios had not killed Nikodemos, members of the jury, then Sebastian surely would have murdered him with his bare hands! Is this to become a common way of fighting in Athens? Is this what we want on our streets? As you have heard from the witness Pelagios, Nikodemos didn’t stand a chance!

  “Why did Alexios do it? Do not forget, members of the jury, that the defendant has reached the age of eighteen years. You see him before you‌—‌youthful, a boy still, you might say. But in Athenian law a boy of eighteen is judged a man. And the mark of a man is to accept responsibility for his actions, however wrong they may be, as we are all required to do. No one‌—‌his father, his teachers, his friends‌—‌can protect him from the consequences of that brutal attack. Exile is a small price to pay for the life of a man, and Alexios should pay his due. Today he must face his accusers and answer for his crime!

  “We have lived through good times and bad, fellow Athenians. But our great justice system will outlive all of us here today. Why? Because it invests power in the people. Only the people can pass judgment on those who transgress our laws! Today, in this court, you will decide the guilt or innocence of Alexios. Let it be a just decision: guilty as charged!”

  Stephanos rolled his notes into a scroll and stepped down from the platform. The herald of the court stopped the water clock and proceedings were suspended until the defence was ready to present its case.

  13

  Sebastian sat a few moments, thinking fast. Alexios and Zenon were seated in front next to Dareios, looking pale and anxious. Seb leaned across and put his hand on Alexios’s shoulder in a gesture of support and encouragement.

  He whispered, “We have a witness, a good man. I will have Dareios call on him to speak for us.” Alexios glanced at Georgios and nodded in acknowledgment.

  The herald stood waiting to fill the water clock upon commencement. Alexios stood and took his place on the platform to defend himself. The courtroom was silent. Alexios glanced at the herald and gave a slight nod, then spoke.

  “I stand before you innocent of the crime of murder of which I have been accused. I tell you now that I, and I alone, am responsible for the death of Nikodemos, but I am not guilty of his murder. I have fewer witnesses here in court than the prosecution has called, but the testimony to be presented in my defence is the truth. It is my belief and hope that you, the jury, Athenian citizens all, will recognise as dishonest the testimony that Stephanos has presented to you.

  “Nikodemos was not the man portrayed by his cousin Theron. The day I met him was the day he died, and on this day his were not the actions of a good man. On this day he was a man controlled by misplaced anger, and his intent was murder. I trust in others to support my observations and impressions of him.

  “Sebastian, who will speak today in my defence, is a friend‌—‌the best and truest friend I could wish for. But before that day in the marketplace I knew him only as an assistant to Andreas, the sandal-maker. He became my friend on the day I met Nikodemos and I owe him my life.

  “It’s true that my life is one of privilege. But it’s also a life of honour, the way of life instilled in me by my father Zenon and by my teachers. I would choose to die rather than bring dishonour to my family.

  “I have asked Dareios to help me present my case, as I am no orator and I fear my emotions may overwhelm me.”

  Alexios stepped down and was replaced on the platform by Dareios. The orator paused and smiled at the jury before he spoke.

  “Citizens of Athens, we have heard from the defendant that he is no orator. He is surely being modest. These are fine words, certainly worthy of the son of an aristocrat and statesman. But I’m sure he would agree that evidence is what counts in this case, and evidence is what you will now hear from the defence, in order to make a right and proper judgment.

  “I have here a statement from the slave Melitta. I will read her words, as transcribed by the defendant’s friend Sebastian:

  I was in the marketplace on the day of Areos, sent by my mistress Korinna to fetch some wine for the household. I saw a purse on the ground in front of me, and picked it up. I looked around to see who had dropped it and before I had a chance to find its owner I was assaulted with a staff and hit to the ground by the man whose name is Nikodemos. He was extremely angry and would not listen to me when I tried to tell him that I had found it in the street. He kept beating me and yelling abuse at me, calling me a thief and a whore. I thought he was going to kill me. I was screaming but no one in the crowd helped me until my master’s son Alexios appeared and knocked the staff from his hand. I couldn’t rise because of the pain. All I could do was lie there.

  Alexios came over to me. He was trying to help me to stand when he was attacked by Nikodemos with the staff and fell to the ground. Nikodemos was standing close above him. I saw Nikodemos raise the staff to hit Alexios again, and then I don’t remember anything until I woke in my master’s house. They told me Sebastian had carried me home.

  Dareios paused and looked at the jury with raised eyebrows. He sighed audibly and continued his speech. “Well, Athenians, generally we would find it hard to believe the word of a slave, especially against the word of an Athenian magistrate.”

  The jury rustled in their seats, unsure of their reaction to this, and waited.

  “But if the slave Melitta denies stealing the purse of coins from Nikodemos, we must believe her. We must be satisfied with a transcript of her words‌—‌prepared, as I said, by Sebastian. We have heard from the prosecution’s witness Epaphros that he saw her take the purse‌—‌is certain of it, no less‌—‌but why would we believe this citizen against the word of the slave?”

  The defence team was frozen in disbelief and confusion. Was Dareios mad? Zenon seemed in shock, his face drained of colour. Dareios, their own hired orator, was deliberately casting doubt on Melitta’s evidence. With growing certainty, Zenon knew that Dareios was aware of his actions and their consequences. He looked across at his son. Alexios was ashen, uncertain of the direction the proceedings were taking, apprehensive at the jury’s restlessness. Zenon’s heart was breaking for him. How did this happen?

  The jury’s restlessness increased.

  Sebastian sat still as a statue, watching Dareios, waiting and thinking. These were not the tactics they had decided on. Dareios was destroying Alexios. Why would he do that?

  He glanced across to the side of the court where Theron and the rest of the prosecution team were sitting, relaxed and silent as they listened to the defence orator destroy his own case. Something had gone wrong. As Seb watched Theron, he saw a slight expression pass over his face. Seb followed the direction of his gaze and caught the flicker of a glance exchanged between Theron and Dareios, enough to send a chill through him.

  They had been betrayed.

  It was clear that Dareios had been working for Theron from the beginning. Seb tried to remember who had recommended Dareios to them. No one. Dareios had sought them out, had approached them and had been hired on the basis of his reputation as a scholar and teacher. How wrong they had been‌—‌Dareios had already negotiated a price with their enemies. He would have been well paid for his services, Seb thought bitterly.

  As the significance of Dareios’s words became clearer, anger replaced disbelief in the defence group. Dareios was about to continue when Zenon rose from his seat, fury on his face. Seb leaned over and stayed his arm. “Let him be. If you get involved now you will be doing harm to Alexios. Let me destroy him,” he whispered. Z
enon hesitated briefly, then resumed his seat in silence.

  With renewed purpose and a racing heart, Seb rose and calmly mounted the platform next to Dareios.

  Confronted with such insolence, Dareios turned to Seb, coldly suppressing his anger. “Am I to be replaced with a slave?” Before he could order Seb to step down, he saw Zenon and Kyros rise in support of Seb.

  Dareios hesitated, uncertain. He had counted on Zenon’s reluctance to discredit him, knowing that to admit to such misjudgment could destroy Zenon’s political career. But he now saw that Zenon was prepared to remove him without regard for the consequences of his action, to humiliate himself by replacing him, Dareios, a scholar and trained orator, with a slave. As Dareios watched he saw others in the defence team rise until all were standing behind Seb.

  Zenon spoke in a clear voice. “Sebastian will be heard.”

  Dareios glanced across at the prosecution, contained his anger and fell silent.

  Seb addressed the jury in a strong, clear voice.

  “This man, this orator hired in trust to defend our case, no longer speaks for us! His foul words will no longer be heard in this court of law! Dareios is no more than a puppet of Theron’s, a vile and corrupt servant of the people who would seek to deceive us all. Is this the truth he tells us, Athenians? Are these vengeful words, these lies concocted by the prosecution to turn you from the truth, to be believed? Listen to me now! Listen to the truth!”

  Dareios gathered his papers and prepared to leave the platform, but Seb quickly intercepted him and stayed his arm. “Leave them!” he said, snatching the papers from his grasp and holding them up for the jury to see. “Leave them so we can all read your lies! You are now an outcast, Dareios‌—‌a fool who sought to deceive an Athenian jury and thinks to escape punishment! Your treachery has doomed you to exile‌—‌the punishment you would have brought upon Alexios! Leave this courtroom now or by Zeus I’ll kill you!”