“I will stand by Athens and by all Hellas,” said Nikander solemnly. “I believe Apollo will defend his own.”
Themistokles now began to talk of the silver mines of Laurium and how he had been trying to persuade the Athenians to forego their yearly gift of silver in order to build ships for fighting against the little island of Ægina.
“Will so many ships be needed?” queried Nikander with sharp insight.
Themistokles leaned toward him, laughing softly, triumphantly. “For the war with Ægina!” he said, low-toned. “Believe me, for that war the ships will not be used. But when the Persian comes, he will find certain ships in our harbour that will give him pause. Remember that, Nikander, so that you may give credit to Themistokles who saw before the event.”
All too soon Themistokles took his departure. Afterward Theria heard the slaves gossiping about the man. “He brought with him a purple tent,” they said, “and furniture and many slaves, even for his short visit.” Themistokles lived like a prince in Delphi.
CHAPTER VIII
DRYAS TAKES A ROBBER
There was no use mincing matters; Lycophron, the eldest son of Nikander, was not satisfactory. Handsome in person, he had nevertheless always been slow to learn and swift in evil doing, the bane of his Delphic schoolmasters. At fourteen years his features had coarsened, his eyes grown less intelligent. Now at eighteen that phase was past and he was clever in a fashion which Nikander vainly tried to think creditable. Nikander wanted to keep close to his boy in study and sports. Lycophron was his first-born. Some day Lycophron would be priest in Nikander’s stead, would take his chair in the Amphictyonic Council. Yet try as he might, Nikander could never look forward to this succession without shame.
Lycophron now began to demand money for horses and a chariot for the Olympian games. Nikander could ill afford so expensive a winning. He had hoped that his eldest son would win the crown for leaping or running, some act which would be reflected back in manly beauty and strength. Yet Nikander managed to give Lycophron money for his horses. He loved his eldest with a sensitive, intimate love.
But now came Dryas. Dryas from the first week of school had shown himself a promising son of the ancient house, and Nikander’s joy in him was beautiful to see. Always when Dryas returned from school Nikander would contrive to be in the aula to greet him, to hear the latest Doric melody the boy had learned, to correct the faults, or recite with him the passage of Homer which had been the lesson of the day.