to have no idea, of whom I might be…
In the midst of such uncertainty, I might not have another chance to confront Zeno. I pulled out the ring and stepped toward him.
Zeno turned and saw the thing in my hand. He was puzzled for a moment, then gave a start, as he had the night before. He saw his father-in-law approaching. 'Put that thing away!'
'Then you do know this ring?'
'For Artemis's sake, put it away-before Apollonides sees it!'
'Why should it matter if he does?' I asked-and in that instant, gazing into Zeno's wide-open eyes, I knew the answer. It seemed to me that I must have known all along.
But it was too late. Apollonides had already seen that I held something in my hand and had noticed Zeno's reaction to it. As he approached, he looked from Zeno to the ring. He seemed at first mildly curious, then surprised, then confused. 'What is the meaning of this, Gordianus?' he said. 'What are you doing with my daughter's ring?'
The wind cut through my thin tunic. I felt a chill, despite the fiery glow in the night sky. Now I understood everything. Or so I thought.
XXI
'I'll ask you again, Finder. What are you doing with Cydimache's ring?'
'Your daughter's ring…?'
'Yes, of course! Zeno gave it to her on their wedding day. It never leaves her finger.'
I made no answer. Apollonides turned to Zeno, who averted his eyes. 'Explain this, Zeno. Did you give him the ring? Why? As payment to a spy? As bribery? But Cydimache would never allow-'
'Your son-in-law did not give me this ring, First Timouchos. I found it.'
'Found it? Found it?' There was a note of hysteria in Apollonides's voice. I think, by a leap of intuition, he, too, had begun to realize the truth. At our first meeting on the rooftop terrace of the scapegoat's house, when I told him what I had witnessed on the Sacrifice Rock, he had paid only grudging attention, had accused me of lying. The woman who fell from the precipice was of no concern to him. At that moment, how could he have known, how could he have imagined the truth of the matter? 'First Timouchos, I think I can explain; but not here, not in this place. In your house. In the presence of… certain others.' I expected more anger and bombast, but instead his voice became quite small. 'Others? What others?' All the color drained from his face. In the flickering, reflected glow from the fires outside the city walls, his features looked like those of a lifeless effigy made of wax. His jaw gaped and his brows turned upward until he resembled those heads mounted on spikes in the ruins of the scapegoat's house.
We had no need of torches to light our way as we traversed the city to Apollonides's house. The sullen glow of the burning siegeworks lit up the sky and cast a fitful illumination over Massilia, drenching her open spaces in blood-red light, casting deep, black shadows into her hidden corners and recesses.
Apollonides dispatched soldiers ahead of us to fetch those I had asked him to summon, and ordered more soldiers to form a cordon around us, and after that he said no more. Zeno, too, was silent. Once or twice Davus tried to whisper a question in my ear, but I shook my head and drew away. Our little retinue made its grim way up the winding streets until we arrived at the house of the First Timouchos.
Inside the house, the soldiers who had been dispatched ahead of us stood guard before Zeno and Cydimache's quarters. Outside the room, Arausio and his wife, Rindel, stood huddled together in confusion.
'First Timouchos!' Arausio's voice quavered, 'what is the meaning of this? Your soldiers rousted us from our home and brought us here without a word of explanation. Are we under arrest? I see you have the Finder with you. Does he accuse me of slandering you and your son-in-law? It's not true, First Timouchos! Don't listen to Roman treachery! Have mercy on my wife, at least-'
'Be quiet, merchant!' said Apollonides. He spoke to Zeno without looking at him. 'Son-in-law, open the door to this room.'
'Open it yourself,' said Zeno dully.
'I will not! This is the room where my daughter grew up. My daughter, who from the first time she saw herself in a mirror wished me never to enter her presence unannounced, who wished me never to see her unclothed or unveiled-who wished for even her slaves never to see her unveiled-whose privacy I have always scrupulously respected. When you married her, this became the room she shared with you and you alone. Only once or twice since Cydimache was a child have I stepped foot inside. I certainly have never forced my way in. I have never even touched the door. I won't do so now. You will open the door.'
Zeno stared at the floor, glanced furtively at Arausio and his wife, bit his lip, then expelled a mirthless laugh. His eyes glittered feverishly. He shook his head and glared at me scornfully, but also as if he pitied me. 'Remember, Finder, this was your doing. It was you and no one else who brought this about!'
He opened the door to the chamber he shared with his wife. One by one, we stepped inside-Zeno first, then Apollonides, then Davus and myself. Last of all came Arausio and his wife. Their expressions were dumbfounded; for what possible reason had they had been summoned to the bedchamber shared by the man who had betrayed their daughter and the monster for whom he had betrayed her?
The furnishings were luxurious, as I would have expected. Every surface seemed to be draped with rich fabric. The walls were covered with sumptuous hangings, the lamps strung with baubles. The impression was a riot of textures and patterns, as if the room itself was swathed in layer upon layer of veils.
At the far end of the room, a startled figure turned toward us, covered with a cowled cloak and heavily veiled as on the previous night at the grim banquet in Apollonides's garden. No wonder, I thought, that Zeno had not wanted her to see the ring of Cydimache when I confronted him in the little courtyard!
For a long moment, no one moved or spoke. 'First Timouchos,' I said quietly, 'do you wish to-'
'No! You do it, Finder. Unveil her.' His voice was hoarse, hardly more than a whisper. I felt a sudden, piercing sympathy for him. He had worked out the truth, as I had. He knew what must have happened on the Sacrifice Rock that day; but what father can accept the fact of his child's death without proof, absolute proof, however painful? So it had been for me, unable, finally and without doubt, to accept Meto's death. Without proof, there must always be a glimmer of hope. For a few moments longer, Apollonides could cling to that hope. Once the veil was drawn aside, all doubt would vanish. I saw him steel himself for the moment, a look of utter misery on his face.
I slowly crossed the room. The veiled, hunchbacked figure swayed slightly back and forth as I approached, as if contemplating escape; but escape was impossible. I drew closer and closer, until I was close enough to hear the sound of heavy breathing behind the veil. I raised my hand.
The figure likewise raised a hand and seized my wrist, to stop me from lifting the veil.
I found myself staring, befuddled, at the hand that gripped my wrist. Something was wrong-entirely and completely, terribly wrong. This was not-could not possibly be-the hand of the woman I expected to find behind the veil. Hers would be a smooth, delicate hand, the skin fair and unblemished, even lovelier than that of her mother, who stood trembling with confusion beside her husband at the other end of the room. This hand was coarse, and dark, and bristled with black hairs across the back. This could not possibly be the hand of Rindel, the daughter of Arausio, Zeno's lover!
My heart pounded in my chest. What had I done? How had I arrived at a conclusion so far from the truth, and drawn all these others along with me?
'Unveil her!' wailed Apollonides, his voice trembling with suspense.
There was no other choice. I prepared myself for the shock, the shame, the terrible mistake of Cydimache unveiled.
But at that moment, Zeno, too, must have seen the hand that restrained me. He expelled a strange, barking laugh fraught with anguish. He cried out, 'Beloved! It's no use, anymore. Show yourself?'
What did he mean? I somehow sensed that he was not addressing the veiled one, but someone else in the room. There was a movement behind one of the wall hangings. With a shuddering sob, a slender figure stepped out of concealment and stole across the room, into the astonished arms of Arausio and his wife. They cried out in stunned, joyous surprise as they embraced their daughter. Rindel was even more beautiful than I had
