‘Let’s keep it that way,’ the tavern henchman said with cheerful menace.
As the poets were ushered out, I saw the three blue-cloaked poets took care not to catch anyone’s eye. The henchman glanced at the tavern owner. His nod said the trio could stay. I watched the last of the Ionians stalk out, wrapping himself in affronted dignity as well as his blood-red cloak.
Conversation was resuming as everyone dismissed the diversion, turning instead to the entertaining prospects for the days ahead. The city’s annual celebration of Athena’s birth, and yes, our salute to the tyrannicides who set us on our path to democracy, is a more modest affair. Those three days of celebrations are purely for citizens. Every fourth year though, we welcome visitors from every land where Hellenes have settled, and we make the most of it.
I poured out the last of our aromatic dark wine. ‘Do we want another jugful, or is it time to go?’
Hyanthidas looked at Telesilla. She nodded with a grin. ‘We’ll have a few late nights before the festival’s over. We may as well sleep while we can.’
I rose to my feet and offered Zosime my hand. ‘Do you want us to walk to your lodgings with you? Do you want to buy a torch from the doorman?’
The public slaves who keep order within the city walls would be patrolling, but even the Scythians can’t be everywhere at once. As well as visitors here to honour Athena, there would be others up to no good. A burning pine knot purchased from a tavern can be a weapon as well as a light to see your path.
Hyanthidas shook his head, unconcerned. ‘It’s not far.’
If he wasn’t bothered, neither was I. He’d lived in Athens for the best part of a year when I’d hired him as the musician for my first Dionysia play. He knew his way around the city and its hazards.
‘Will we see you tomorrow?’ I asked.
‘We don’t want to take up your time,’ Telesilla said quickly. ‘You must want to spend at least some of the festival with your families.’
‘All my father wants to do at the moment is sleep,’ Zosime assured her. ‘The pottery where he works got one of the contracts for making the Great Panathenaia’s prize amphorae. He’s been working night and day.’
I grinned. ‘I’m going nowhere near my brothers. Tomorrow’s the last day of business and they’ll be rushing around like blue-arsed flies. If they catch a glimpse of me, they’ll find me a job.’
I might not have taken up the family leather-working trade, but as far as my older brother Nymenios is concerned, I’m still duty-bound to help out if he needs me.
‘Shall we meet at noon?’ Zosime suggested. ‘In the agora, by the altar of the twelve gods?’
‘That sounds ideal,’ Hyanthidas agreed.
I bought a torch from the doorman’s basket as we left. As we walked a short way together, I noticed a few passers-by giving us a second look. Respectable Athenian citizen women wouldn’t be out and about drinking in taverns at this time of night. That risked someone condemning them for behaviour debasing their right to citizenship, with dire consequences for their children. Menkaure is Egyptian though, and Zosime’s mother was from Crete. As a resident foreigner she doesn’t need to watch her step like my sisters. On the other hand, she doesn’t have the legal protections of an Athenian woman, so I am always ready to defend her.
Thankfully Hyanthidas’ Corinthian accent told the busybodies that they were visitors, while a challenging stare from me told the hopefuls that the beauty on my arm was well and truly spoken for. The tavern where we’d met for dinner was in the Limnai district, so we weren’t far from the Itonian Gate and our road home. We said our goodbyes, and we went on our way. I was really looking forward to the festival.
Chapter Two
We had no reason to get up too early. My Phrygian slave Kadous, the other member of our small household, had already been out to fetch water from the closest fountain, and to buy freshly baked barley bread. We ate that with honey and luscious cherries, sitting in the shade of the porch that ran across the front of the three main rooms of our little house.
Zosime finished eating. ‘If you do get chosen to write a play for the next Dionysia, don’t assume you can ask Hyanthidas to compose your music again. He’d have to stay in the city for months, and Telesilla still doesn’t want to live in Athens, when she can’t perform here to earn her own coin.’
I’d wondered what they were talking about, as they had sat with their heads close together. I shrugged. ‘There’s no way to know if I’ll even be asked.’
She got up from her stool and kissed me. ‘I have a few things to do before we go out.’
I licked a trace of sweetness from my lips as she went into the end room where we keep our household’s stores. I looked across the yard. Our chickens were scratching around by the sturdy gate, busy before the heat started building. Kadous’ quarters were to the left, with his straw-stuffed mattress draped over the windowsill to air after a sweaty night. He’d better close that open door before the hens went looking for somewhere out of the sun.
The dining room stood on the other side of the gate. At the moment, the walls inside were unpainted and there was beaten earth for a floor. It had been that way ever since I’d moved here, and nothing had changed when Zosime moved in. I used the space to store wine and some spare furniture as well as my papyrus, ink and pens, to keep my work from cluttering up our living room on the other side of our bedroom to the stores.
Now though, I had money to spare. I could hire someone to plaster the walls, and find
