So much for finding out what he knew. Still, we were in, and no one had asked us to leave. I tried to work out what I should ask first, and how, and who, without causing unintended offence. Pursuing the dead man’s killer was a family obligation and these people would know I was not kin.
As I looked around the courtyard as discreetly as I could, I saw Apollonides looking at me with an ‘I told you so’ expression.
‘I hardly think he wants to discuss who might have killed his brother,’ I conceded. ‘But we should see what we can learn before we go.’
Apollonides still looked unconvinced, but he nodded. ‘We can stay just for a little while.’
He headed towards the far end of the porch, well away from Timon. I strolled over to a knot of sombre men by the gate.
‘A bad business this.’ I didn’t have to feign my concern.
‘Dreadful,’ the first man agreed.
‘The city is full of strangers.’ The man beside him shook his head. ‘Where were the Scythians?’ another demanded, belligerent in his fear. ‘Are we all to be knifed for our purses?’
So these men knew how Hermaios had died. I wondered who had told them. Then I realised the wound would be obvious as soon as the brother saw the body to confirm the dead man’s name. Word would have spread fast.
‘Must it have been a stranger?’ I asked as casually as I could. ‘It’s a rare man who has no enemies at all.’
The neighbours stared at me with utter incomprehension. After an uncomfortably tense moment, I realised that was the only answer I was going to get.
‘Excuse me.’ I quickly moved on to two men who had only just arrived, as they stood watching and waiting for the right moment to approach Timon Metrobiou.
‘A sad day.’ I shook my head. ‘Though it must be some comfort to his family to know Hermaios was so well regarded.’
The first man looked at me, incredulous. ‘You think there’s any consolation to be had here?’
I couldn’t argue with that, but I persevered, addressing the second man. ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever heard anyone say a bad word about him.’ I left the merest hint of a question hanging in the air.
‘You won’t,’ the man said curtly. ‘He was as well-loved as he was admired.’
‘With good reason.’ The first man scowled at me.
For one awful moment, I thought they were going to start asking me what right I had to be asking questions. Instead, they exchanged an offended glance and stalked away.
I felt humiliation redden my cheeks. I drew a deep breath and told myself that was no reason to give up. I was here at the behest of the gods as well as doing a service for two of Athens’ most influential men. Another trio, two elders and a youth, were leaving the porch after delivering their burdens. As I approached them, I tried for a friendly smile that was nevertheless suitable for such a sad occasion.
‘A tragic loss,’ I began.
‘Indeed.’ The first man walked straight past me without slowing, and his companions kept pace as precisely as hoplites in a phalanx.
I looked around for Apollonides, and wondered if he was having any more success than me. Instead I saw a young man striding towards me with grim purpose on his face.
He was tall and muscled like a runner, with long hair flowing in tangled curls and no beard to speak of as yet. I guessed he was probably starting his final year of studies guided by the tutors at the Academy or the Lyceum. Then he would be summoned for his hoplite training, when those fetching curls would be cropped and his two years military service to the city would follow. Fit as he was, he’d find that no great challenge. His pace quickened as he realised I’d seen him. From his red and swollen eyes, he was clearly grieving, but I had a nasty feeling that wouldn’t stop him challenging me. Quite the contrary. He’d welcome an outlet for his storm of emotions. I remembered getting horribly drunk and starting more than one pointless fight after my father died. I stood my ground. If I ran, he would only pursue me.
‘Who are you?’ he demanded as he came within arm’s length. ‘Why are you trying to blacken a good man’s name before he’s even buried?’
His voice broke on a sob, but his glare said he’d like to break my jaw. We were the centre of attention now, and I could see no one was going to step in if this young hero decided to thrash me for whatever offence he decided I’d committed.
‘I am here on behalf of Melesias Philaid,’ I said quickly. ‘The festival commissioners are looking for any explanation that might bring Hermaios’ killer to face justice.’
Apollonides hurried up. ‘It’s Ikesios, isn’t it? Ikesios Menexonou?’
So the youth wasn’t one of the dead man’s brothers. I breathed a little easier.
Being addressed by name distracted my opponent. He stared blankly at the actor. ‘Who are you?’
‘Apollonides Simou of Kollytos.’ He ushered us towards the gate. ‘Why don’t we find a tavern and share a jug of wine?’
The young man was too bemused to resist, and I wasn’t about to object as the actor bustled us out of the gate. As we left the house and its mourners behind us, Apollonides looked up and down the street.
‘I think there’s a decent tavern along that way.’
‘I’m going nowhere with you.’ Ikesios halted, stubborn as a mule. ‘Who are you?’
‘As I said, I’m here on behalf of Melesias Philaid, the festival commissioner.’ I explained the errand that had brought us to Hermaios’ family home as swiftly and simply as I could. I didn’t complicate matters by mentioning Daimachos’ murder. That could wait.
Apollonides chipped in. ‘Is there any way you could help us?’
I could see that my friend had some reason to think the boy might know something. I had no
