From the Fields of Fennel

Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep your pace. Pan save me, my legs are tired. Breathe in. Breathe out. You’ve done this before. Just breathe. Breathe in. Breathe out. You’ve been here before. You’ve seen all of this before. You are almost there. Just keep your pace. Breathe in. Breathe out. The pain will subside. The pain will go away. Pan, please, make the pain go away. Breathe in. Breathe Out.

I can see the next road marker. It is just at the top of the hill. A cairn of rocks and next to it will be a small altar to Her. I wonder if the offering of dates I gave to Her there pleased Her the last time that I ran this run? I wonder if She was pleased today, when Her people gave it all to protect Her city? I should stop there again. Give to Her thanks. Gods, I’m tired. I can’t stop now. If I stop, even for a moment I’ll be done.

“Take to the road, Pheidippides.” They said. “Bear the message to the city, tell all who ask. Run once more Pheidippides!” So ran I did. I dropped my shield on that field that moment and did what I had done since I was but a boy. I ran.

Lord Zephyr thank you for that breeze. I can feel the sweat running down my arms and legs. The dust from the road is sticking to my body. I feel heavier than I ever have. I feel slower than I ever have. I’m almost there. I’ve done this before. Breathe in, breathe out. Keep your pace.

At least the road is well trodden. It isn’t like the road to Sparta. That road was a tangle of roots, twisting, snarling up at me trying to catch my legs. They asked me to run then too. That was a real run. From Her city, from the Acropolis itself, all the way down the Peloponnese to the famed city of warriors. For a whole day and night I ran. It seemed like forever ago. But it had not even been half a moon. But they asked. My country. They asked and so I ran.

Over mountains, through streams, around lakes, in the light of Helios and in the shade of Selene I ran. None attempted to stop my progress as I bore Her symbol. A great eyed owl was on my cloak, as I carry now. The workers in their fields, orchards and vineyards looked up as I passed. Some waved, others scowled. An outsider bringing trouble. But I paid them no heed. I keep the words in my head. Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep your pace. You are almost there.

When I arrived in Sparta I was taken to the halls of their kings. I was put before them to say my message.

“Tarry in Sparta no more!” I bade them. “Would you abide while the enemy marches on the lands of our fathers? The great foreign enemy, the fearsome Persia, has already overrun and enslaved the city of Eritrea. Do not let them crush the most ancient city. Her city. Athens. Come and give to us aid.”

The king and ministers were moved, but their laws forbade them to make war until the Moon showed Her whole face. “The enemy advances even now, surely the Gods would understand the need for haste.” I entreated them. But they demurred and so back I ran. Through glen and glade, forest and mountain top. I ran. I kept my breath and I kept my pace, and returned the message to my countrymen. We had no kings, but our leaders acknowledged the news and made preparations. They seemed disappointed, the wise men of Athens, my fellow citizens, but on their shoulders was a greater weight than mine.

That was two days ago. Since then I’ve had maybe one night’s rest. I spent the rest of the time running from one end of the army encampment to the other to pass messages. Never slowing but to eat a bite, or sip a cup. Then the battle this morning. From dawn to noon, we clashed sword and shield. Drawing blood and giving it. And now I’m carrying the news of the battle.

Oh my Lady! My legs are in pain. I can feel it in my sinew, in my bones, in the nails of my toes and the ends of my hair. If I could only stop for just a moment. Stretch the muscles, just give them a moment’s rest. Oh, what a pleasure that would be. A moment’s rest, I know that there is a stream just past the next rise. I could rest by it awhile. Refresh myself. Carry on after I have finished.

No! Breathe in. Breathe out. Just keep pace. I need to run. I need to keep running. What sort of man would I be? What sort of Athenian would I be? Would you bring that kind of shame to your family? You’ve been here before. You’ve done this before. You are almost there. Pan give me strength. Athena give me endurance.

The village in the distance is Stamata. Father once told me that we hailed from there, a long time ago. Before even the democracy or even Her Blessing. Father and Mother taught me of duty. To family to country. Stamata was a part of it too. We all had our roles. Some people farmed, some made laws, some had babies, and some wrote plays. And others ran. I ran.

Mother told me that Hermes touched my feet when I was in the womb, that is why I was so quick. My feet, leathered even more than the leather that made up my sandals were my greatest gift. My feet had taken me from the top of Olympus itself to the edge of Poseidon's world. I have been from Macedon to the Port of Piraeus and everywhere in between. Carried swiftly and surely by my feet. I carried my messages, and had never failed to deliver one on time.

Now I carried perhaps my most important message. And I am at my most tired. The burning pain that was in my muscles now feels like knives in my soul. To rest would be sweeter than the waters of Elysium. But I cannot rest. Not yet. Not till my message is delivered.

This morning I was fighting for my life against those who would conquer , and now I feel like I’m fighting for breath. But I’m almost there. The north gate of Her city will be visible after I crest this hill. Breathe in. Breathe out. Keep your pace. Put one foot there, and the other there.

The road is chalky and soft. It always seems softer the closer I get to the city. Perhaps it is because my feet recognize the soil of my home. I am made of the same material. The clay that Prometheus breathed life into was gotten from the same hills. This is my home. I am almost there.

Oh there it is! I can see the walls of the city. The countryside around it is dotted with farms and huts. There are people there just on the outside of the gate, not wanting to stray far incase of attack. That was a horn blast from the city. They see me.

I have almost done it! I have almost done it. What seemed impossible a few hours ago, when they bade me to carry the message is almost complete. I have run my whole life, and now I have almost finished perhaps my finest run. I did it for my Gods. For Pan who has always blessed me. For Athena who gave me my home. For Athens, and the goodness it represents. For my fellow citizens. And I did it for me. I was blessed by the Gods to run, and the highest calling in life is to fulfill one’s purpose. I have done that and more. I ran for honor and now I run for glory.

The people are running out to meet me. Some carried banners. Some even know who I am, they called, “Pheidippides! Pheidippides! What news from Marathon! What news of the battle?”

I collapse in their arms. They lower me to the ground. Breathe in. Breathe out. I don’t need to keep the pace any longer. Breathe in. Breathe out.

“What news Pheidippides?”

I say to them, as I look into the emerald blue sky. “Joy to you! Victory!” And I close my eyes, and I can finally rest.