The two citizen women were still deep in conversation. Menkaure watched them, as still as a heron waiting for some signal to take wing. Chairephanes was fidgeting like a boy who’d fallen into a patch of nettles.
At least the conversation wasn’t a long one. I heaved a sigh of relief as the two of them stood up and brushed any dust off their skirts. They offered each other a farewell embrace, which surprised me since they had only just met. Zosime was helping the slave girls shoulder their heavy water jars. My beloved and Glykera stood for a moment watching as the others headed back down the road towards Kalliphonos’ house. Then Zosime picked up the tavern’s water jug from the ledge by the fountain and they strolled back to join us.
As they drew closer I could see the triumph on their faces. I could barely hold myself back, but if I moved so would Chairephanes, and I still didn’t want to draw undue attention our way.
The women arrived, and Glykera kissed her husband. ‘See how easy that was?’
He looked sheepish and kissed her back.
Zosime filled our cups with the water she was carrying. I took a drink and was surprised to realise how dry my mouth had been.
‘Well?’
‘That was Posideos’ sister,’ Glykera said, triumphant. ‘She knew he was running away four years ago, though she has no idea where he went. The girl he had fallen in love with was nobody’s wife, but she had a tyrant of a brother who was ready to marry her off to a man she loathed. Her name was Adrasteia,’ she said before any of us could ask, ‘and her brother was – is – Damianos Sethou. They lived in Koele, though she wasn’t sure if that’s the family’s ancestral home.’
‘That doesn’t matter. That’s enough to find him.’ I felt giddy with relief.
Zosime came around the table and drew up a stool to sit beside me. She took my hand and leaned her head on my shoulder as Glykera continued sharing what she had learned.
‘Adrasteia knew she would be pursued. If anyone even suspected she planned to run away, she would never have been let out of the house. So she went out with only the clothes she was wearing, taking nothing else. Posideos begged his sister for a cloak, a hairbrush, a few essentials. He swore her to secrecy, and she’s kept her oath. It’s not as if she had anything to tell, really, and he convinced her there could only be trouble if Damianos knew their family had anything to do with his sister’s disappearance.’
He wasn’t wrong about that. ‘Did you tell her—’
‘She heard her father telling her mother about your visit. That’s why she volunteered to help fetch the water. She had to get out of the house in case she gave something away.’ Glykera looked at me, wholly serious. ‘She thought meeting me was a gift from the gods when I told her three men had been killed by a man hunting the girl her brother ran away with. Now she understands why Posideos warned her, and she swears she’ll still keep her oath.’
‘That’s good to know.’ I nodded, relieved.
Now we knew who we were looking for. Now the hunter had become the prey. The last thing we needed was well-meaning interference from Kalliphonos or his other sons.
I stood up. ‘Let’s get back to the city and see what Aristarchos can find out about this bastard.’
Chapter Seventeen
Chairephanes and Glykera headed for home to relate her triumph to Mother and Melina. We agreed Menkaure and Zosime would go to the Pnyx to find Hyanthidas and Telesilla. They would share what we had learned with the Corinthians and see if they had any news.
Ambrakis, Ikesios and I made our way to Aristarchos’ house as fast as the crowds would allow us. Mus welcomed us in and as we walked across the outer courtyard Lydis summarised the morning’s reports that Kallinos had gathered from the Scythians.
‘The only fights they broke up last night were the usual festival melees. They patrolled the streets between the agora, the Pnyx and the Acropolis around dawn, and didn’t trip over any dead bodies. Melesias Philaid sent runners to every poet on our list first thing this morning. By noon he’d heard from them all. No one had any encounters to concern them.’
That was a relief. I also wondered how many slaves Melesias owned as Lydis went on.
‘Almost all the performers are up at the Pnyx for the Iliad’s final day. They’re looking for safety in numbers, as they freely admit.’
I didn’t blame the poets in the least. Thrilling an audience with stories of bloodshed and violence was one thing. Facing a proven killer was something else entirely, especially if you were on your own and armed with a performer’s staff not a hoplite’s spear.
Aristarchos was reading his correspondence in the shade of the colonnade by his private dining room door. I wondered if he ever enjoyed a day free of letters bringing him news or demanding decisions about his interests in Athens or out in Attica, maybe asking him to use his wealth and influence to deliver some favour. For the moment though, I blessed Athena for his extensive connections and the widespread respect he commanded.
He looked up and set the document aside. ‘Can I offer you something to drink? Something to eat?’
‘No, thank you.’ I was still full of tavern snacks and wine. ‘We know who we’re looking for. Now we just have to
