off to the side, behind trees. The executioners would clamp a metal collar around my neck. Then they would slowly screw it tighter while I strangled and struggled for breath and my tongue stuck out and my face turned blue. But I wouldn’t suffocate, because before that happened the collar would probably snap my neck.
I decided I would have to quickly stop this train of thought before it sent me into a blind panic. I told myself to think of something else, and drifted off to sleep thinking of Diotima.
I woke before the dawn next morning feeling distinctly queasy. The wine had gone to my stomach and I hadn’t slept much for fear the rats would come back and crawl on me.
My little brother squeezed his way past the legs of the guards.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised. “How did you get in?”
“They said I could come in and say goodbye to you since you’re going to be executed,” he explained.
“Terrific.”
“Nico, are they really going to kill you?”
I bit my lip, uncertain what to say. “I don’t know, little brother. I hope not.”
“I hope not too.” He scuffed his feet in the dirt. “Nico, are you going to be all right?”
“Don’t worry about me, little brother. There’s going to be a trial, and then I get to explain everything about what really happened, and then the people who listen to the evidence-they’re called dicasts-will realize I did nothing wrong and vote to let me go.”
“You mean you’ll prove you didn’t kill Ephialtes?”
“That’s right.”
Socrates announced, “I’m going to think of all the reasons why it wasn’t you. And then I’ll work out who really did it.”
I said urgently, “Socrates, do not go wandering about trying to solve the murder. Don’t worry about it, Pericles will help me.” I wondered if that was true. Pericles hadn’t come to see me yet, though he must have heard by now I’d been arrested. A great deal hinged on how Pericles reacted.
“What happens if they say you only killed the slaves?”
“That’s destruction of state property. They’d only fine me a lot of money. But that won’t happen because I wouldn’t have killed the slaves unless I also killed Ephialtes. The killing of the slaves doesn’t count for much in the trial. It’s like an extra piece of sweets at dinner.”
“But what if they find out you took that stuff from Ephialtes’ home?”
“Shh!” I hissed, horrified. I looked about to see if the guards had heard, but they seemed to be ignoring us.
“How do you know about that?” I demanded in a whisper.
He grinned. “I followed you after the funeral. I saw your girlfriend hand you the box.”
“She’s not my girlfriend!” I said quickly. “And don’t say that to anyone else or you might get her killed.”
“Aren’t they going to kill her anyway, for murdering the madwoman?”
“Maybe.” I winced. “I don’t think so though. I think they only accused her to get at me. They need her alive to marry Rizon or he can’t inherit.”
“I heard Father say Rizon could marry her when they buried her. Mother said that would be an awful thing to do.”
I gasped in shock. It was true. Sometimes if a betrothed died before a wedding, the body was buried with the wedding clothes, wedding songs were sung by the graveside, and the families treated it as if the marriage had taken place. Conon could choose to view Diotima’s death in the same light.
“I think you’d better go home, little brother,” I said gently. “Father doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”
He shook his head.
“Goodbye, little brother.”
“See you later, Nico.”
His departure left me plenty of time to feel sorry for myself. I thought upon my impending death and decided I didn’t want to die. Not now, not any time. I began to sob. Once started, I couldn’t stop. I’m sure the guards heard but they didn’t look around. No doubt they’d heard it all before.
I calmed down eventually, or rather, I managed to stop the noise. I was still as miserable as I’d ever been in my short life. I wondered if anyone was trying to save me. I wondered what Pericles thought.
“You’ve made a complete mess of it,” a voice said brusquely. I looked up to see Pericles there.
“Sorry,” I muttered, wiping my face with my hands.
“Sorry isn’t good enough. How could you have done this to me? I’m disappointed, Nicolaos, very disappointed.”
“As I see it, you’re the one standing outside and I’m the one awaiting execution.”
“You must be tried first, but I agree it’s a foregone conclusion. And we still don’t know who killed Ephialtes. It’s not the result we were hoping for, is it?”
That raised my hopes. “So you don’t think I killed him. Are you going to get me out of here?”
“I don’t know if you’re the murderer or not. I didn’t see you with a bow, but then, as I said to Conon when he asked me, I didn’t look either. And don’t get your hopes up. Has it occurred to you the men who will be your judges are the ones who probably did arrange his death? They’ll be more than happy to influence the jury against you.”
I’d had the same thought; the Council of the Areopagus would be the judges of my case. Irrational as it was, I’d kept some hope that Pericles might find a way out for me. Now he destroyed me utterly.
“I don’t even dare be seen with you. That’s why I’m here, to warn you not to say anything about our association when they take you to trial.”
I stood to the door and grabbed it. If I’d the strength I would have torn it off its hinges on my way to throttle Pericles. Instead, I put my head to the tiny slots and shouted, “Thank you very much, you bastard! What happened to loyalty?”
Pericles said coldly, “I promised you great reward for success. Failure wasn’t mentioned in the agreement.”
He had a point, but it was the clinical way he abandoned me that rankled.
“Your commission is revoked. You have no way now of completing it.”
“Unless I did kill Ephialtes.”
“Did you?”
“No, of course not.”
Pericles nodded. “I thought as much, and you have no reason to lie now. I will give you this much, Nicolaos: if you do not mention me in your defense except insofar as I was present when the body was discovered, which all men know anyway, then I will use my influence to protect your girlfriend.”
“I’m not his girlfriend,” a voice said behind Pericles, who turned, startled. I looked up. How much had she heard?
Pericles said, “As you wish.” He turned his back on her and said to me, “She must marry Rizon, but I think I can save her from stoning.”
I looked at Diotima and said, “I accept.”
“No you don’t!”
“Yes I do. Stay out of this.”
“You think your noble sacrifice is going to impress me?” she sneered. She pulled out a piece of papyrus and practically slammed it into Pericles’ face. “Read it and weep,” she snarled.
As Pericles read his face became ashen. “Where did you get this?”
“The papers from Ephialtes’ room. We found this.”
“We?” Pericles looked at me accusingly. I, of course, had never told him about the note he was holding. I knew what she must have handed him, the parchment in Ephialtes’ own handwriting that said Pericles could not be trusted with the leadership.
“This isn’t the original,” Pericles stated.
“No, of course not. You might have forced that from me. This is the copy I made. The original is well hidden.”
Pericles thought for a moment. “Very well, it’s obvious you want something from me. What is it?”
“You will free Nico.”
