He broke off and emptied his cup in a single swallow. His hand trembled as he put it down and the pottery clattered against the tabletop. He must have thought he was going to die. I wasn’t surprised he was so shaken.
When he spoke again, his voice was stronger. ‘There’s nothing to this accusation. I’ll swear that on Hera’s altar with any oaths you like. I want your word that you won’t repeat this. I’ve never been a seducer, and I won’t have my reputation sullied by hearing this repeated around the agora. There will always be someone who’ll say there’s no smoke without fire. So if anyone asks about this—’ he touched a fingertip to his split lip and examined the smear of blood. ‘I’m saying a street thief was after my silver. Do you understand?’
‘I do.’ Rumour can be a vicious goddess. ‘How did you escape?’
Thallos managed a faint smile. ‘By Aphrodite’s good grace. A street walker and her Paris-for-the-evening came down the alley looking for a little seclusion. The young hero was ready to fight, but as soon the girl started screaming the brute dropped me like a dog caught with a chicken and ran. His slave went scurrying after him. I was in no state to stop them.’
‘Do you know who he was? Your rescuer, I mean.’
Thallos shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea. A lad from the Peloponnese, maybe? When he saw there was no battle to be had, he was more interested in getting what he’d paid for. I just wanted to get home.’
That was understandable. I poured him another cupful of wine. ‘Will you be fit to take part in the Iliad tomorrow?’
‘Of course.’ He looked surprised that I’d even asked. In the next instant, he was alarmed. ‘Does Melesias Philaid think he needs to replace me? Please, assure him that I am well able to take my place and compete. Tell him I’ll be there, as Athena is my witness.’
‘I will,’ I assured him. At least, I’d tell Aristarchos, who would know how to pass the message on. ‘One last thing. If the Furies lead us to this man, would you know him again? To swear to it before the Areopagus Court, so that he will answer for these murders?’
‘Oh, yes.’ Thallos was certain of that.
That was something at least. I got to my feet. ‘We will leave you to rest.’
‘Thank you.’ Thallos looked up at me. ‘I will be up at the Pnyx tomorrow. Don’t doubt it.’
‘That’s good to know.’ I recalled how Orpheus’ head had carried on singing while it was floating down a river after he was torn apart by maenads. I saw similar determination on Thallos’ face.
He grinned, and winced as his lip started bleeding again. ‘Then I hope to see you there.’
‘Perhaps.’ I didn’t want to commit myself before I’d spoken to Zosime. I still had to make things up to her, so I’d go along with her choice of festival entertainment. ‘Good day to you.’
Kallinos followed me to the gate. He glanced at me as the slave closed the entrance behind us. ‘To Aristarchos?’
I nodded, walking quickly. The sooner this errand was done, the sooner I could be at the theatre to see the soloists compete on the seven-stringed concert lyre. Hyanthidas would perform after that. ‘We’re agreed we’re looking for one murderer now? There can’t be two men in the city willing to beat or stab a poet to death because he can’t answer his questions.’
‘Agreed.’ The Scythian pursed his lips as he strode beside me. ‘And whoever this killer is, he’s getting bolder, to strike in daylight.’
‘The shadows can have barely been lengthening,’ I agreed. The sooner this brute was caught, the better.
‘So he’s looking for some girl – or woman,’ the Scythian said thoughtfully.
‘Wife? Sister? Mother?’ There was no way to know.
‘And he thinks she spread her thighs for an epic poet, but he doesn’t know which one?’
‘Not just any poet,’ I pointed out. ‘He may not know who this man is, but he knows he wears a red cloak. None of the poets here to take part in the Odyssey have been attacked, have they?’
‘Not that I’ve heard,’ Kallinos confirmed, ‘and believe me, I would have been told, after everything that’s happened.’
I heaved a sigh. ‘So now someone will have to go and see each and every one of the poets again, to ask them about their love lives.’
‘Someone?’ Kallinos shot me a sideways glance.
I ignored that unsubtle hint. ‘No, that won’t work. They’ll lie, rather than admit to such a shameful crime. The authorities will have to find out more discreetly.’
I tried to recall if I’d seen any sign of any of the poets hiding a woman in the various houses and hostels where they were lodging. I couldn’t think of anything in particular, but then I hadn’t been looking. Even so, my spirits rose. Now we had a definite reason for this mayhem.
‘Once we know who this woman is, and where she’s tucked away, we’ll be able to put a name to some outraged father or brother or son. Once we start asking questions – I mean, once Hermaios’ brother starts asking questions – it’ll only be a matter of time before one of her relatives won’t be able to account for their whereabouts when all three of these men were attacked.’
Kallinos looked sceptical. ‘Unless they browbeat their slaves and womenfolk into lying for them.’
‘That won’t impress a jury.’ I shook my head.
