“Relax! I’m only trying to point out it’s in your interest to help me find this man.” I picked up a potsherd and scratched my name into it, then dropped it on his workbench. “Come see me if you think of anything. I’m willing to pay a reward if you can tell me where to find him.”
That got his attention. “How big a reward?”
“Big enough.” I was being a trifle free with Pericles’ money.
Brasidas guffawed. “You’re paying, are you?” He looked me up and down, and I knew what he was thinking. I looked a mess after the chase through the Agora after Diotima, and my chitoniskos was patched and stained.
“Pericles is paying.”
Brasidas threw the bow back at me and said, “Oh, I get it! You’re going to take a cut for my information. Well, I might just go straight to him, and what will Pericles pay if I bring in the man himself?”
That alarmed me. “Brasidas, do yourself a favor and tell me if you know anything.”
Brasidas stood mute, and folded his arms.
“This is dangerous. You’d better be careful, or you could find yourself dead.”
“You’re not going to hurt my father!”
I turned, surprised. The lad standing in the doorway behind me was three or four years younger than me.
“That’s not what I said.”
“Yes it is. I heard you.”
My head was aching, I was sure Brasidas knew more than he’d told me, I was exasperated by his attitude, and I was disappointed and frustrated at having victory held out before me and then snatched away.
I pushed past the boy and walked down the street.
7
The messenger boy from Pericles had asked me to come. That pleased me because we had last parted on poor terms. I wanted to mend fences with Pericles, and delivering important progress would smooth my way.
Pericles was busy with another visitor so a slave left me to wait in the courtyard. Paths formed a cross, splitting the courtyard into four quadrants, each grassed and with vines running about the entire space. The fragrance of the vines was sweet and so intense that even I, who normally ignored such things, was drawn to walk over and sniff. The mandatory statue of Zeus Herkeios was placed in the most distant corner, with flowers growing about it and a step placed in front for the daily sacrifice. There were a number of couches placed to form a large circle, and beside each couch was a table carved from marble. The grass was patchy; it was easy to see the spots where men commonly placed their feet when walking from one couch to another. This was a working courtyard for a man who regularly held large symposiums.
What the slave could not have anticipated was the raised voices, and the way the sound floated down to me from Pericles’ study.
“You will go to the estates,” Xanthippus’ voice roared.
I looked up to the second floor, startled, to see two heads framed within the window, facing each other, as if they were putting on a show for me.
“With the greatest respect, Father, I must say again that I decline. There are too many issues needing my personal attention here in town. I’m sure you understand that. Perhaps after this crisis has died down-”
“You must leave Athens, for your own sake, at least for a few months. The family estates need more attention than we’ve given them. This is the perfect time for you to learn the management of our property. I am sending you as your father, I expect you to obey as my son.”
It was going to be embarrassing if they looked down and saw me. I moved to stand directly underneath the window, where I wouldn’t be noticed if they glanced out. Besides, this was interesting and I didn’t want them to stop.
“I’m not a child any longer, Father.”
“In law you are.”
“I owe you all the loyalty and obedience a son owes a father, but I will not run away from Athens like a coward. We both know this has nothing to do with managing the family wealth.”
“You’re right, it doesn’t. I’ve done my best to protect you from your actions, but I can’t keep it up much longer.”
There was a lull in the conversation. I edged closer to the window.
“Son, I made a mistake when first I walked in here. I should have asked you to go, not told you outright. If you wish, I will apologize. But the fact remains it’s in your best interests to leave Athens for a while.”
“I disagree.” Pericles’ tone could have frozen water. “My interests lie right here. May I say, Father, how disappointed I am that we cannot seem to have any conversation these days without it turning into an argument.”
“I wonder whose fault that might be?”
“Both of us, I should imagine. I remember when we could discuss almost any subject, and even if we disagreed, it never became an issue for personal antagonism. I wonder what changed?”
“You became obsessed with this democratic movement.”
“I think rather had you been born at the same time as me you would have become a democrat yourself. You were a reformer as a young man. You were a champion of the people before the time of Themistocles. Where did it all go wrong?”
“It didn’t go wrong, young man. I still champion the best interests of the people. What I realize is the people cannot be trusted to champion themselves. Under this democracy of yours Athens will make mediocre decisions at best, and sometimes very bad ones.”
“Are you sure, Father, that that is not the opinion of a man accustomed to wielding power?”
“No, it is reality. When you are fighting in the ranks of the army, do you want the smartest, most experienced man to command, or an incompetent, the least experienced?”
“The answer is obvious.”
“Just so, it is obvious. Yet as soon as we start to talk about the leadership of our city, a subject of infinitely greater importance than any one battle, suddenly the idea of choosing the best man for the job disappears.”
Their voices had calmed, and were quieter. I edged my way up the stairs to a position where I could hear more clearly. Pericles was speaking.
“The Ecclesia can be persuaded by the wisdom of our best men. Men like you, Father. Trust them to respond to good advice.”
“Pericles, I am going to say something I don’t think I have ever said to you before: you are a fine man. I’m proud of you, son. But intelligence makes conservatives of us all in the end. Young men should have a social conscience. Old men must work with reality.”
“If you were proud of me you’d at least consider my words before you reject them.”
“I could wish you were prouder of me, and listen to the wisdom of my old age.”
“I will not leave Athens.”
“If you stay here, you will die.”
“If I leave, I might as well be dead.”
The door flung open without warning and Xanthippus stamped down, pushing me out of the way.
“You again!” he shouted. Then he stopped and turned to me. His face twitched into a bleak smile. “I think my son is looking for you.” Xanthippus continued on his way in a cloud of anger.
Pericles was not in a good mood.
“You again!” he shouted, sounding remarkably like his father. “What in Hades is this?” He snatched something from his desk and waved it in the air.
“It looks like a bill,” I said.
“And this?” He picked up another, which lay beside a rotting fish. The fish was propped up so that one eye stared at me accusingly.
“Er-another bill?”
