‘Do you think they would have kept such a secret?’ A spark of anger flared in his eyes. ‘For so long, seeing their mother’s distress?’
‘No, of course not. Forgive me.’ I rose to my feet. ‘Thank you for your hospitality—’
‘If you learn anything, even if – whatever news – however grievous—’ He couldn’t go on.
‘Of course. Please excuse me. I must continue our hunt for this killer.’
I nodded to Ambrakis, and we walked out of the courtyard. The little slave girl hurried after us to wave to the guard on the gate. He let us out, and I could see the curiosity on his face, but it wasn’t his place to ask my business with his master. Just as he wouldn’t share what he might know about Posideos’ disappearance without permission, so there was no point in me asking him.
I vented my frustration as Ambrakis and I walked back up the road towards Athens. ‘Someone there must know something that could help us. Even one of the slaves, whether they work in the house or the garden.’
‘You expect them to speak up now, and be flogged for keeping quiet for so long? Besides, Posideos would have known they could be beaten into betraying him, if his father suspected they had any answers. That’s why he went into the city to flee with his lover from there. He couldn’t risk bringing her home.’
I hadn’t been expecting Ambrakis to reply, and his forthrightness was even more of a surprise. Startled, I glanced at him, only to see his face was as expressionless as a sacred statue. Since I had no reason to take issue with anything he’d just said, I turned back to study the road ahead.
‘Where are we going, do you suppose?’
‘Over there.’
As Ambrakis pointed, I saw the people we were looking for were sitting in the shade of a bower outside a tavern. It served a handful of modest houses clustered around the junction with a track that led somewhere or other. We walked over to join them, and I looked back to satisfy myself that we could still see Kalliphonos’ gate.
‘There’s no sign of anyone on your trail,’ Ikesios told me.
He had been waiting for me at Aristarchos’ house yesterday evening, and had helped us make our plans for today. He had pointed out the possibility that I might be followed, all unawares like Soterides and indeed like that priest of Nemesis. As he said, I’d spent the last few days asking endless questions about the poets and talking to the men themselves. There was no knowing whose path I might have crossed. So we had agreed Ikesios would trail after us at a good distance, in case the killer was dogging my footsteps. Not only to come to my aid if I was attacked, but to get a good look at the killer and with any luck, follow him home.
‘That’s a shame, but I suppose it was too much to hope for.’ I sighed as I sat down.
‘It’s good news if it means this killer doesn’t know you’re the man trying to find him.’ Zosime passed me a cup of well-watered wine from the jug on the table. When she had heard what we had planned, she had insisted on coming too.
‘So what did you find out in there?’ Since Menkaure had been present for our conversation, he had refused to consider letting his daughter face even the theoretical risk of some encounter with a murderer without him.
‘His father has no idea where Posideos might have gone,’ I told them. ‘He had no notion there was a woman involved, and he can’t think who she could be. As far as the family is concerned, Posideos disappeared with his travelling gear and no one has seen him since the last Great Panathenaia. Believe me, they’ve looked, far and wide.’
I gestured for Ambrakis to take a stool. ‘Have a seat. We don’t know how long we’ll have to wait.’
‘The closest fountain is over there.’ Ikesios pointed across the road to a rocky outcrop by a sizeable olive grove. Some stonemason long ages ago had half-built, half-carved out a basin for the spring that bubbled up there, to make it easier to fill jugs and buckets. The ready availability of fresh water was doubtless why the tavern had been built here in the first place.
Chairephanes scowled. ‘Are we going to be sitting here till sunset then?’
Glykera patted his knee. She was smiling cheerily. ‘Someone will have to fetch water soon, for a household that size on a day this hot.’ She looked at me. ‘What did you find out about the family?’
‘There are two other brothers – at least two,’ I amended. Kalliphonos hadn’t said how many sons he had, only that Posideos was the third. ‘There are daughters, but I have no idea how many, or how old they might be.’
And I had no way to know if these unknown girls would be told anything about my visit. Had any of them had been up on that shady balcony listening to us, unseen? I poured a sip of wine as a libation to Aphrodite, to Hera, to Demeter and to any other goddess taking an interest. If this venture led us nowhere, I had no idea where we might go next.
Glykera looked around, still smiling. ‘It’s nice out this way, isn’t it? Perhaps we should look for a house around here. Just somewhere small.’
‘It’s too far from your family as well as mine.’ Chairephanes glowered.
My normally cheerful brother wasn’t only grumpy at the prospect of living out here and facing a long walk to the family workshop and back each day. He had tried to forbid Glykera’s involvement in any part in this scheme, when I had called at our family home last night to ask for help, after I explained what we’d learned about the killer’s murderous grudge.
I’d been hoping to persuade my mother to come
