>>5527567On the other side of the box is a similar pledge next to a pictograph of an army marching to war. A rough-and-tumble translation reads as follows:
<span class="mu-s">The oath of the Athenian warrior.
I shall fight while I live, and I shall not reckon living of more account than being free.
I shall not desert the taxiarch nor the enomotarch, whether living or dead, and I shall not retreat unless the commanders lead the way.
I shall do whatever the generals order, and shall bury the dead of those who were allies on the spot, and shall leave no-one unburied.
Having been victorious fighting the barbarians, I shall tithe the city of the Thebans, and I shall not destroy Athens or Sparta or Plataia or any of the other cities that were allied.
I shall not overlook those who are oppressed by hunger, nor shall I bar them from running water, whether they are friends or enemies.
If I adhere to what has been written in the oath may my city be free from disease, if not, diseased.
May my city be unsacked, but if not, may it be sacked.
May my land be fruitful, but if not, may it be barren.
May the women bear children like their parents, but if not, monsters.
May the animals bear young like the animals, but if not, monsters.
They swore these oaths, covered the sacrificial victims with their shields, and at the sound of the trumpet they made a curse: if they transgressed anything that they had sworn and did not adhere to what was written in the oath, those who had sworn would be accursed.</span>
Some heavy stuff.
If you know anything about the Greek mythos, they weren’t the biggest fan of oathbreakers and cowards; a sentiment that you can heartily endorse.
The moment you finish reading these ancient words of duty, the top of the box abruptly loosens, as if approvingly granting you entry.
You carefully remove the cover and peer inside, on guard for any potential trickery.
The inside of the box is initially more underwhelming than you had anticipated. Regardless, you handle the examination with a level of grace and care that would make a veteran archaeologist proud of your technique.
The style is of simple, spartan decoration; but something about it sets you profoundly at ease, like you were going through your childhood possessions and discovered a long-lost favorite toy.
Instead of the fabulous riches or forbidden knowledge that you were secretly anticipating, the contents are but a simple dagger and some kind of wax tablet.
The dagger (which Pandion helpfully identifies as a ‘parazonium’) draws your attention first. Despite the advanced age of its container, it lacks a single speck of rust or grime anywhere along its blade.
If you didn’t know better, you would swear that it had just been freshly polished and sharpened with extreme care.
