watched Nestor until he vanished. He had a pounding headache, and he wondered if he had absently already had a sip of the wine. Or been poisoned earlier. He felt queasy.
‘Done,’ the tyrant said.
Silence fell over the hall. Nestor came in by another entrance with a file of soldiers. One of them was carrying a dead dog. Soldiers took station at every entrance.
Slaves suddenly moved like lightning, herded by other soldiers.
Nestor moved to the foot of the dais. He bent his head down and spoke to the tyrant, and the man started. Then he spoke rapidly.
‘I apologize for the inconvenience,’ Nestor announced. ‘This dinner is ended and you are all guests of the tyrant for the night. Soldiers will escort you to rooms. When you are cleared, you will be escorted home. Again, we apologize for any inconvenience. Those responsible will be punished,’ Nestor glanced around, ‘with the utmost rigour.’
Diners looked pale. A woman burst into tears. Soldiers moved up to every couch and took the diners away. Satyrus saw two soldiers escort Theron from the hall, and another pair taking Philokles.
‘Your wine was poisoned, young man. And there’s a boy with his throat cut in the kitchen.’ The tyrant shook his head. ‘I hate that this has happened here. It makes me feel weak. It makes me look weak.’ He shrugged, moving the whole mass of his flesh. ‘Escort them to their rooms. Young man, you have brought me a great deal of trouble – but you have also identified for me a serious threat, and for that you have my thanks.’ He gestured with his hand. Nestor moved to Satyrus’s couch.
‘My lord?’ he said.
Satyrus rolled to his feet. Melitta came up next to him and together they bowed to the tyrant, who responded with a civil inclination of his head. ‘You are excellent children,’ he said. ‘I hope that you live.’
Satyrus met the ogre’s eye. ‘I hope that I will always remember that beauty is not the only good,’ he said.
He started to turn away, but he caught the smile that flashed over the tyrant’s face. ‘When you are ready to be a king, come to me,’ Dionysius the tyrant said. ‘I think I would be happy to be your ally.’ With that, despite his bulk, he moved quickly, vanishing into his guards.
‘Not bad,’ Melitta said. ‘I think you’re starting to play the prince.’
‘I’ll have to live long enough to grow into the part,’ he shot back, but then he grinned at her. ‘Watch out, Lita. I could grow to like it.’
Nestor escorted them to the door. ‘Draco!’ he called out. Many of the diners were gathered outside, being searched with brusque efficiency by the tyrant’s guard. There was a fair amount of silent outrage.
Draco ran up and saluted. ‘Captain?’
‘Take these two back to their rooms,’ he said. ‘I will make arrangements on your behalf. Be ready.’ He spoke tersely and turned away.
Satyrus glanced at Melitta. She shook her head. ‘He means, don’t go to sleep,’ she whispered.
‘Right this way, lady,’ the soldier said. When they were clear of the guests and the other soldiers, he led them by the servants’ ways and the slaves’ stair to their rooms. There were soldiers at every junction in the palace.
‘This happens a little too often for me,’ he said. ‘Word to the wise – the guards saw a man going up the slaves’ stairs about twenty minutes back. They shouted – should have just charged the fucker – and he got away.’ The Macedonian shrugged. ‘More poison? Going to bag that slave girl? Who the fuck knows? I’ve never seen the like of this, except at court at home.’
Satyrus paused at the door of his room, suddenly overwhelmed with an irrational – or perhaps wholly rational – fear of a dark room. ‘Would you have someone search my room?’ he asked.
Draco sighed. ‘I’m not even on duty. Can the search of your room wait until morning?’
Satyrus whirled. ‘No, it cannot. Listen – someone just tried to poison me. Earlier, someone had a go at my sister and managed to poison Kallista – er, her slave. My mother is probably dead in Pantecapaeum, I’m cut off from my friends and my patrimony, and I’m at the end of my tether and I want you to get your arse into that room and check it out, or get someone who will. Understand me?’ His voice was shrill, and his tone was murderous, and he regretted the whole speech the moment it was out of his mouth.
Draco stiffened. ‘Yes, my lord,’ he said, woodenly. He summoned two more guardsmen, had a whispered conversation and then, with lamps in hand, they searched the room, ripped the coverings off the couch and searched them for needles, and summoned a pair of slaves to remake it. Then they did the same for Melitta, moving the snoring Kallista.
When they were done, Satyrus tried to make amends. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said.
Draco shot him a look of contempt. ‘Just my job, my lord. I’ll be on my way.’
Satyrus paused. ‘Yes, it is, Draco. Sorry for the inconvenience, but it is your job.’
Draco stalked off.
Philokles and Theron joined them in Melitta’s room. They dropped their packs and sat on them. Then Philokles went with Satyrus to his room and they collected his gear and moved it to his sister’s room.
Before they could get it all arranged, there was the rattle of armed soldiers in the colonnade, and Nestor appeared through the curtain.
He entered, followed by a slim figure wrapped to the head in cloaks. ‘The tyrant himself is otherwise engaged,’ Nestor said.
‘He sent me to prove his determination on your behalf,’ Amastris said, emerging from her wraps. She smiled hesitantly. ‘And because I wanted to say goodbye. Nestor will escort you to the stables. Father wants you gone immediately – while he has the palace locked down and no one can speak of your flight. Then he intends to sell every slave in the palace. That boy – the one who served you – was one of ours.’ Her eyes met Satyrus’s, and she smiled at him. He had to lean against the wall. ‘He shouldn’t even have been in the room. He’s not a server – just a cook’s boy. But none of the slaves seem to know anything.’ Her shrug told a great deal. ‘So father is selling every one of them in the morning.’ ‘Ares!’ Philokles said. ‘Every slave in the palace?’
Nestor’s face hardened. ‘I’ll find the man responsible. And we’ll never get to the slaves while they’re still on the staff.’
‘The man responsible is the Athenian, Stratokles,’ Satyrus said. ‘And his agent, the slave Tenedos.’
Nestor shook his head. ‘Stratokles has fled the city, and is a citizen of Athens. We have the house watched, but there is not much more we can do. It now appears that this slave, Tenedos, may have been his messenger to someone inside the palace.’
‘Surely you can take action against him! Arrest him!’ Satyrus blurted.
‘Athens, young prince, does not take well to the prosecution of its ambassadors.’ Nestor snapped his fingers, and a pair of soldiers brought a cauldron of stew. ‘Or their murder. I have eaten from this pot. The wine is my own. Please eat.’
Satyrus didn’t hesitate. He took a loaf of bread from one of the soldiers, picked up a bowl and began to eat. Melitta did the same. Philokles and Theron joined in.
Amastris took a bowl and joined them. She shared the room’s only chair with Melitta, like sisters. ‘My father says, “I smell Olympias and her pet, Cassander.” Olympias serves dark powers. She loves poison.’ She glanced at Melitta. ‘We all fear Olympias. She has been a figure of fear to me since I was born.’
‘Many of your soldiers are from Macedon,’ Melitta said.
Nestor nodded. ‘It will be looked into. You need to be gone from here before someone gets you.’ He looked at Philokles. ‘How long have you been with the twins?’
‘All our lives,’ Satyrus answered. ‘He was my father’s friend. You cannot possibly accuse him.’
Nestor shook his head. ‘My lord, I accuse no one, but I must ask everyone. So you are the same man as figures in tales of Kineas? Good.’ Nestor nodded at Philokles and turned back to Satyrus. ‘I think that if he drank less, he’d be more trustworthy; but he seems a solid man.’
Philokles went red and then a blotched red and white.
Impervious to the Spartan’s rage, Nestor glanced at Theron. ‘How about this athlete? Theron?’ Nestor pointed at him. ‘How long have you known him?’
‘He has been with us from the attack at Tanais,’ Satyrus said. His voice was very low. He looked at Melitta.
