If the woman was in the city, he might even abandon her completely, if what these two poets said of his character was any guide. Her word might be worthless as far as the courts were concerned, but her family would still know who to blame if she told her story. If Soterides stayed away from wherever he’d lodged her, we had no hope of finding her. The man she’d fled might not find her either, but with no silver to pay her way, she’d soon be thrown out onto the streets where she’d face the choice of starving or whoring. I wouldn’t want to have to explain that to my mother or Zosime.
Unless she went home, of course. I uneasily recalled what the murderer had said to Thallos. If he killed the man she had fled with, she would be forced to go back to the house she had escaped. If he killed any man who might be protecting her, he was bound to succeed eventually. Was that his plan now? Was that why he had cracked Polymnestos’ skull?
‘So Soterides is a goat who doesn’t know he’s being allowed to roam on a long leash to lure a jackal.’ Eupraxis didn’t sound overly concerned.
I wished he hadn’t put it quite like that. I looked at Ikesios. ‘We had better be wakeful watchdogs.’ I turned to Ambrakis again. ‘If Aristarchos thinks Soterides should be warned, come and tell us at once. There’ll be at least one of us here on the Pnyx.’
The big slave nodded, grunted, and finally went on his way. I looked around and picked out several Scythians, but couldn’t see any of the ones I knew.
‘He’s moving,’ Ikesios said suddenly.
He was right. With everyone else’s attention on the platform, Soterides was edging unobtrusively backwards through the crowd. When the men he’d been standing with realised he’d left, no one would be able to say when or where he had gone.
Eupraxis bit his lip. ‘Three of us following him will be better than two.’
I could see he was reluctant, but he was ready to do his part. Fortunately, I had already decided it would be better for him to stay where he was, not just in case Ambrakis came back with urgent news, and not only because he deserved to have the best chance possible in the Iliad contest.
‘Does Soterides know you?’ As Eupraxis nodded, I looked at Ikesios. ‘What about you?’
The youth shook his head, disdainful. ‘He couldn’t pick me out in an empty tavern. He only pays attention to men who might be his rivals. He won’t know my face until he sees me perform.’
‘Then he’ll remember your name because he will definitely have something to worry about,’ Eupraxis prophesied.
Ikesios was surprised into a smile. Before he could ask exactly what the older poet meant, I interrupted, addressing Eupraxis.
‘If he recognises you following him, he’ll be instantly suspicious. He must know you have no business being anywhere but on the Pnyx today and tomorrow. You can still help us though,’ I assured him. ‘You heard what I said to Ambrakis. We need someone to stay here in case Aristarchos insists the poets are told about Polymnestos, or if he wants something else done. This will be where Lydis sends word of whatever he finds out, and there’s more you can do while you’re waiting.’
I nodded at the cluster of poets who were still so rapt in the performance that they hadn’t noticed their friend had left them. ‘See what you can find out about whatever Soterides has been up to for the past few days. Find out where he’s lodging, if you can. We’ll see you back here when… When we can.’
Thankfully, Eupraxis nodded, because I had no more time to spare to persuade him. Soterides would soon be out of sight. I nodded at Ikesios. ‘Come on.’
I didn’t wait to see if the youth followed me. I had to keep my eyes fixed on our quarry if we weren’t going to lose him in the crowd. He took the path that led down from the Pnyx towards the Piraeus Gate. That made me suspicious for a start. Just about everyone else whose interest in the Iliad was waning was taking the road to the Acropolis or the agora, where so many other festival events were happening.
Still, with fewer people between us, it was easier to see Soterides. On the other hand, he could see who else was heading the same way, and I quickly realised he was checking to see if he was being followed. That strengthened my conviction that this well-groomed bastard was up to no good. I also started wondering if he knew who might be pursuing him. Did that mean that the killer could be walking this path with us?
As Soterides glanced over his shoulder yet again, I had to fight an urge to do the same, to see if I recognised a face from the crowd on the Pnyx, or even from that first night in the tavern where Daimachos of Leuktra had made such an ass of himself.
But if I did see someone I knew, that would be proof of nothing. Any Athenian had a right to walk these paths. All I risked was betraying our own interest in whoever might be pursuing Soterides. If the killer realised that and veered away, we’d have no way to know. If he abandoned his murderous plans altogether, we would never find out who was guilty.
Ikesios was getting nervous. ‘What if Eupraxis was mistaken? Perhaps he does know who we are. What do we say, if he challenges us?’
Thankfully, recalling the last time I’d approached this gate out of the city inspired me. ‘We say we’re going to call on Hermaios’ family, to pay our respects after
