“Did he beat them?” I was thinking of the bruises on Stratonike.
“No. He and Stratonike ended up face to face, him shouting that she belonged to his household now and she’s to do what she’s told or else, her mouthing obscenities and ignoring everything he said. He stalked back to the table and stuffed his face with Ephialtes’ food and wine. Stratonike picked up a knife and threw it at him. She missed, but the knife flew past his face. Rizon went pale, shouted that he was a fool to let a self-confessed murderess anywhere near him, not to mention the bad luck and the curse of the Gods that falls upon a woman who murders her family, and that in her case it was too late and now she was doubly cursed. That was when he ordered us to get her out of his sight.”
“Then he left?”
“He left some time later. I didn’t see, I was upstairs with the women. I had a choice between staying with Stratonike or Rizon.”
“What about you, Achilles?” I asked.
“I didn’t see him leave either, sir. I was clearing the table. The new master departed while I was out back at the midden.”
“And he didn’t do anything else? Anything important, I mean.”
“He struck-” Achilles glanced at Diotima, who ordered, “No, Achilles.”
But I’d heard enough, and with the hint I could see the bruise forming along the side of Diotima’s face.
“He struck you?” I was enraged.
“He was unhappy I’d grabbed the spear of vengeance from him during the funeral march. He hadn’t known how to exert his authority over me in front of other men, but he knew what to do afterward.”
“Rizon and I are going to talk,” I said grimly.
Diotima tossed her head to the side and refused to let me examine her bruises. “There’s no point, Nicolaos. I belong to Rizon now and it’s all perfectly legal. He can do whatever he likes to me. I suppose I’ll have to get used to it, and learn how to keep out of his way.”
The funny thing was that the wrong person had died. If someone had murdered Rizon it would have made perfect sense. There was a houseful of people who hated him, plus me. But everyone in the house was used to Stratonike. Why kill her now? I was unwillingly drawn back once more to Diotima as a suspect.
I made another round of the kitchen in search of inspiration, but I saw nothing except the cleaver, which I took down. There was nothing special about it I could see, except I was sure I was holding the blade that had killed three women. I hung it back on the wall. I looked out the window into the courtyard. Someone had come in here, in the dark, having to be careful not to awaken the slaves. That person had taken the cleaver off the wall and then in the dark walked up to the women’s rooms. He would have to be careful not to trip over anything on the way.
Diotima and Achilles were restless during my silence, but I ignored them. I had to think this through. Presently Achilles muttered to Diotima, “Mistress, what about the purification? Should we do it now?”
Diotima replied, “I don’t know, Achilles. I’m a priestess and not even I know the rules for this situation. If there’s ever been a time when the house of a murdered man sustained another murder before it was washed, I’ve never heard of it.”
“That’s it!” I exclaimed in excitement. I almost jumped for joy. “Achilles, tell me, how many buckets of seawater did you bring for the purification?”
“Sir? Ah, seventeen.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes sir, we had the seawater brought here from Piraeus. I loaded seventeen buckets on the wagon because that’s as many as we had plus the ones we could borrow from the neighbors. I carried each one in when the wagon returned. I was most particular to make sure none were stolen.”
“Go count them.”
I grinned at Diotima until Achilles returned. He looked puzzled.
“Sixteen, sir. I can’t imagine what happened to the other one.”
“I can. The murderer carried it upstairs to wash himself after the crime. Athens might be dark and lonely in the middle of the night, but no murderer could risk dripping blood all the way back to their home.”
Diotima said, “There was a bucket in the corner of the room. I remember it.”
“So do I, but I assumed it was used for night stools.”
We went up the stairs once more. Diotima and Achilles stayed at the entrance, where Achilles gaped at the scene for the first time, while I went to the corner beside the door in which stood the bucket. Now I knew what to look for. The floor in that corner was ominously clean, though the wall behind was spattered. I put my nose to the empty bucket.
“Seawater.” The salt smell was obvious.
Who would have known the house of Ephialtes had seawater that night? Depressingly, every man in Athens who attended his funeral the day before. That would be about half the population, including everyone implicated by Ephialtes’ death. Most people could have guessed the seawater would be kept at the back of the courtyard, anyone with a bull’s-eye lantern could have found it. Anyone could have guessed there’d be a cleaver in the kitchen.
We retraced our steps downstairs. The runaway slaves had come to their senses and sheepishly returned. They were waiting for us in the courtyard. If they’d kept on running, they could have been executed. Diotima forbade them to go up any stairs, ordered them go about their business, and sent the kitchen girl to make us something light to eat. It was almost midday and we’d been on the go and under stress since before dawn. We invited Achilles to sit with us: after the morning’s trauma he was more like an assistant to us than a slave. I was aware he’d stayed with Diotima when he could have run. I was sure she’d be mindful of the same. Achilles was a man I could trust with her.
The kitchen girl returned with heavily watered wine, olives, and bread. Diotima said to her, “Thank you, Criseis, that will be all. Oh, and please wash the meat cleaver. Do it now.” Criseis stared at Diotima. “Be thorough,” Diotima ordered. Then she turned to me and asked, “Who would have wanted Stratonike dead?”
I could answer that one immediately. “You, Rizon, anyone in this house who couldn’t take any more of her screaming, and whoever killed Ephialtes.”
Diotima nodded glumly. “Well, I didn’t kill them! And even if I was going to murder the wretch I would never have hurt those poor nurses. Do you think it was the same man as killed Father?”
“It’s possible.”
“That leaves us with the slaves. I don’t suppose you killed them, did you, Achilles?”
Achilles held his hands up in horror. “Please, mistress! Never jest about something like that. I know you don’t mean it, but that’s the sort of comment that could get a slave like me killed.”
“Sorry,” she said. “But what do you mean, a slave like you?”
He said sadly, “There are some slaves, mistress, who get by almost as if they were metics, some are almost like members of the family. Then there are the ones who are treated like working drudges, as most of us in this house. But at least those are ignored by the owners. Then there are a few slaves that seem to be the butt of every cruel jest. No matter how well they serve, they always seem to be noticeable when it’s time to play a joke on a slave. That’s me.”
Diotima said, “I’m sorry, Achilles. I never knew you before, but you belong to me now. Can I make it up to you?”
“Don’t free him,” I said quickly. “He’s the only one here you can rely on.”
Achilles looked at me, hurt. “Well, thank you very much, sir.”
“Ignore him, Achilles. I tell you what, when this is over I’ll free you if that’s what you’d like.”
“I take that very kindly of you, young mistress. May I think on it? I’m not sure what I would do if I was free. How would I earn a living?”
“We’ll work on it later.” She patted his hand.
I pointed out, “Of course, in order to make good on that promise you have to be alive later.”
“What do you mean?” Diotima asked, startled.
“Has it occurred to you, the murderer might have had two targets?”
“No, it hadn’t. Are you suggesting he was after me?”
“He was looking for at least Stratonike. That must be so since, not having found you, he went ahead and killed her anyway. She was killed either because of who she is, or who she was married to. If the former, then it’s going to be an esoteric form of a domestic quarrel. If the latter, then whoever is involved in the death of Ephialtes is
