Euterpe held the torn material across her breast with one slender arm in such a way that a nipple poked above. She arched her back. Now she appeared as a statue of Aphrodite. Sophroniscus, who’d been enjoying the view as much as any man, pulled out charcoal and parchment and began a fast sketch.
“Ephialtes had evidence Conon has been stealing from the state. He planned to prosecute him and the Polemarch as soon as their year in office completed. Conon murdered Ephialtes to save himself.”
“You have no evidence for this, I presume?”
“Indeed I do, Xanthippus.” Euterpe gestured to a slave who brought forward the parchments Diotima and I had discovered.
Xanthippus leaned forward to take them but Lysanias was too fast; he snatched them from the slave. “I will keep these safe.” He scanned the documents quickly. “Hmm.” Lysanias looked up at Conon. “It seems we will have something to discuss at a later date.”
Euterpe said, “Conon continued to persecute our family past the murder of my dear Ephialtes. He even ordered our beloved daughter to marry a vile, disgusting man whom Ephialtes would never have countenanced. Then he promised he would rescind his order if I slept with him. I love my daughter so much I made that sacrifice. At least, I assume I did. I don’t remember feeling much.”
Laughter rocked the room. Conon shook his head and shouted, “You lying bitch! You moaned and groaned like a-” He stopped suddenly when he realized what he was admitting. “That is, the whole thing is a fabrication. Honorable dicasts, this woman is known to be a hetaera.”
“I am the true widow of Ephialtes!” Euterpe shouted back.
“Whore!”
“Liar! And your prick is tiny.”
Xanthippus roared, “Throw her out! This is a court of Athens, not a bawdy house!”
Euterpe left the room amid huge cheers, clapping, and at least seven offers of marriage from lascivious jurors and one judge.
Conon’s speech was destroyed. He tried to bring it back on track but there was little he could do in the face of heckling from the dicasts and demands to bring back Euterpe.
In the end, he sat. He had brought out his entire case against me, and few of the dicasts would remember it.
Xanthippus declared a break for lunch.
Pericles said, “That was one of the more remarkable cases I’ve ever observed. Some will believe Xanthippus’ accusation that we arranged it to cast doubt on the case against you by spraying suspicion elsewhere. They will certainly vote against you. Some will forget every word Conon said and remember only those truly remarkable breasts.” We sat silent in fond remembrance ourselves.
If the chamber had been full in the morning, it was positively packed in the afternoon. Word of Euterpe’s performance had flown across Athens and most of the male population had arrived in hopes of more.
Xanthippus declared, “The prosecution has rested. The defense may begin.”
I rose unsteadily to my feet. My heart was thumping and my mouth was suddenly dry. I felt one thousand and one sets of eyes upon me.
In that instant I forgot everything Pericles had told me about how to address a crowd. Should I face the dicasts or the judges? I’d forgotten, and it seemed terribly important to get it right. I compromised by turning to the gap between them, thus facing no one. Dear Gods, Pericles did this every day. The man must have astounding nerves and the courage of a lion.
I have never stuttered in my life, but I stuttered now, “I–I…er, men of Ath-Athens, hon-honorable dic-dic- dicasts.” Conon was smirking. I knew the bastard thought he had this case in the bag. That made me angry. I stopped and took a deep breath. The words of my set speech came back to me, and I repeated them. “Honorable dicasts. I am Nicolaos, son of Sophroniscus, and an innocent man. I did not commit this crime.
“I had the bad luck to be standing underneath when the body of Ephialtes fell from the very rock upon which we now sit. The shock of this terrible crime happening before my eyes led me to investigate the circumstances.” Now my throat caught, for the lies would begin, but Pericles had pounded into me that only the simplest story would wash with the dicasts. Seeing them before me now, I realized he was right. These were not men to delight in a subtle argument. They wanted their proof simple and obvious.
“But these other deaths are all coincidence, fellow citizens, or at least nothing to do with me. I went to see Brasidas about a bow, it is true, but it was next day he was killed, when I was far away. As for these other deaths…”
I proceeded by denying everything. Sophroniscus told me later that I sounded like a schoolboy reciting his homework, quickly and with intonations in all the wrong places. No matter, I got the words out when a moment before I had dried completely, and that was enough of a relief to me.
“My friend Pericles will continue my argument.” This is the ritual statement that allows one man to speak for another in the courts.
The dicasts were surprised at my announcement, and not pleasantly. A man in the jury stood and shook his fist. “You promised you would prosecute the man who killed Ephialtes, Pericles. Now I see you defending the bastard!”
Pericles stood and walked to the section of benches that held his heckler. He remained silent for a moment, and the jury went quiet in anticipation. Pericles, without anger but with a touch of remorse, looked the heckler in the eye and said, “So I did, sir, and so I shall. I am sad to say Conon has charged the wrong man. If I am to bring the real murderer of Ephialtes to justice I must first help clear this young man, whose only crime has been to expend his utmost energies to assist the state.
“Gentlemen of the jury, I speak to you not only as a friend of the accused, the young man Nicolaos, I speak also as the dear friend of my mentor Ephialtes, a man I admired above all others.” Pericles cast a significant glance at his father. “And I will be honest with you, it is Ephialtes I admire and esteem more than Nicolaos. Is it likely I would be defending Nicolaos if I thought he had any hand in the death of my greater friend?
“I came upon the scene shortly after Ephialtes fell. Nicolaos was already there and I say to you, gentlemen, that there is no possible way Nicolaos could have shot Ephialtes upon the Rock, then rushed down in time for me to find him where I did. It follows as night the day that Nicolaos is the only man in Athens who certainly could not have killed Ephialtes. Keep this important point in mind, for it is the beginning and the end of our perfectly simple defense. Any man could have been upon the Rock…any man except Nicolaos. Why, I myself had more opportunity to do the deed than he.”
Pericles paused for effect, allowing the thousand and one men of the jury to contemplate such a ridiculous notion.
“We will now hear the testimony of Pythax, Chief of the Scythians.”
Pythax stood and stepped forward for all the jury to see him. In accordance with judicial process he would not speak himself. He seemed nervous to me, looking about, twitching and shuffling his feet. I smiled in sympathy.
Pythax didn’t like public speaking any more than I.
Pericles read the witness statement of Pythax. When he finished Xanthippus completed with the formal words, “Pythax, Chief of the Scythians, are these your true words?”
The formal response is, “This is my testimony on the case.” Instead, Pythax said, loud enough for everyone in the chamber to hear, “No, I lied.”
Pericles dropped the parchment of testimony in shock. The jury erupted in excitement. Xanthippus shouted, “Silence! Silence in the dicasts! I remind you this is a court of homicide, not a day out at the theater.” Xanthippus stared at Pythax in dismay. “Very well, Pythax, I suppose you had better have your say.”
“It was no accident I happened along as Nicolaos fought Aristodicus. I was ordered to follow him. I was ordered to make sure he didn’t find out too much.”
Pericles was visibly distraught, his face white. He swallowed, and forced himself to ask the next question. “Who gave you those orders?” A hush fell upon the chamber.
“Xanthippus.” The name rang across the court.
The dicasts leaped from their seats, shouted, screamed, and hit one another in excitement. I had seen similar behavior at the chariot races, but nowhere else.
I’m sure Apollo must have been with me, because divine inspiration struck in that instant. Suddenly I was
