Then the thoughts that had besieged me as I lay there last night drove everything else out of my head. I should have realised Zosime would be worried when the whole day passed with no word from me. She had no way to know what I was doing and whether or not I was in any danger. I should have been more considerate. I owed her a sincere apology, both for leaving her to fret, and for taking out my bad temper on her when I finally got home.
Not that she would have been left as bereft as an Athenian wife, if I had fallen foul of this murderer. A citizen widow would be dependent on whichever man was now head of her family, and reliant on his goodwill. Zosime could make her own living with her skills as a vase painter anywhere. She and Menkaure had lived in Egypt and then in Crete. They could leave Athens and make a new life wherever they chose, and leave the duty of avenging my death to my brothers. They could leave Athens regardless, or Zosime could go and live with her father in Kerameikos, if I ever made her unhappy enough to leave me.
Just the idea that I might somehow do that through carelessness or thoughtlessness left me feeling hollow inside. Could I reassure her by promising that I’d give her no more cause to worry? I lay there trying to decide. Had I played my part in this tragedy by now? I’d helped the Scythians put a name to the dead Boeotian. I’d done far more, traipsing around the city to see if an epic poet could be responsible for these crimes. Surely Aristarchos couldn’t expect anything else of me?
I had no ties of blood or kinship to either of the dead men. There would be countless others to whom the gods would look first, to seek vengeance for unjustly spilled blood. The Polemarch would send word to whoever served as Visitor’s Advocate for Leuktra. They would agree between them who should send word to Daimachos’ family in Boeotia. Meantime he would be buried here in Athens, most likely for a year or so to let his body decay. Then whoever mourned him could come to collect his bones. I wondered if they would have the consolation of knowing that his killer had been caught. Hopefully. Securing justice for Hermaios was his family’s duty and they were right here in Athens.
Even so, I decided, I could do a little more to help without running any sort of risk that would worry Zosime. I would give Hermaios’ brother a copy of the list I’d discarded yesterday and Ikesios could explain what it meant. I’d make a copy for the Polemarch as well. Then everyone with an interest in these deaths would know who couldn’t be guilty and that should help them find the murderer’s trail all the faster.
I threw back the blanket and went out into the porch in search of the papyrus. I really hoped that Kadous hadn’t tossed it onto the brazier’s last embers as he tidied up before bed. Outside, the courtyard was empty, and the bedroom door was shut. Belatedly, I realised I hadn’t heard a sound through the wall since I’d woken up.
The Phrygian came out of his own room. ‘Zosime has gone into the city with Sosistratos and his wife. She said to tell you she’s going to meet her father for breakfast and then they’ll go and watch the musical contests.’
His voice was neutral as befitted a good slave, but his eyes told me he thought I’d been a fool. Some men would thrash a slave for looking at them like that. Not me. Kadous had shared every step of my journey from long-haired youth like Ikesios to my current claim to modest fame as a playwright. My father had bought him as a young slave when my brother Lysanias had gone to the war in Egypt. Lysanias had died there, but Kadous had come home to let us know his fate. He could just as easily have started a new life in some city where nobody knew him for a runaway slave, but he had chosen to do our family that service. I had vowed to never forget it.
Remembering our anguished wait for news of my brother made me think of Daimachos’ unknown family once again. I checked the sun. I had plenty of time to write those lists and get into the city and to the theatre before Hyanthidas took to the stage, even if he drew the first place in the competition lottery. The twin pipe players would compete last today. At the moment, the men and boys who accompanied themselves as they sang would still be warming up their voices and tuning their lyres.
I turned to Kadous. ‘I left a papyrus out here last night. Do you know what’s become of it?’
He nodded towards the unused dining room. ‘I put it on the table in there.’
‘Thank you.’ I glanced at our closed bedroom door, and felt guiltily relieved. At least I’d be able to go and get a clean tunic without making even more of a mess of things, because I still had no idea how I was going to apologise. I also noted that my beloved hadn’t paid me back in kind, by going out and leaving me to wonder where she might be and who she was with today. Zosime would never be so petty. That made me feel even worse about the way I had behaved.
‘Fetch me some
