Relieved, Eupraxis answered readily enough. ‘At the Piraeus Gate.’
‘We want to stay well clear of the horses and horsemen tomorrow,’ Ikesios added.
That made sense. The two-horse and four-horse chariot competitions would be taking place at the racecourse outside the city walls, along with the races for horses and riders. All the roads and gates heading that way would be crowded with people coming and going.
I looked at my friend, who was laughing and looking very relaxed for a man who was ready to run this risk. ‘Apollonides and I should spend the day together, and discuss a few tactics.’
He might have some idea how to reassure Zosime. As for Aristarchos, I had no idea what he would say.
Chapter Nineteen
I knocked on Apollonides’ gate early the next morning. He opened up, bright-eyed and clear-headed.
‘Come in.’ Closing the gate, he nodded at the slave who’d brought us breakfast on the day before the festival. ‘What did Zosime have to say?’
‘Plenty,’ I said with feeling. ‘If you get yourself killed, she’ll never forgive you – or me.’
‘I have no intention of letting that happen,’ he assured me.
‘Why did you agree to do this?’
He shrugged. ‘Someone has got to put an end to this slaughter.’
‘I can’t argue with that.’ I grimaced.
We sat down as the slave reappeared with some food.
‘Is that why you changed your mind?’ Apollonides took some bread.
Now I was the one who shrugged. ‘Ikesios and his friends will go ahead with this plan, whatever I say. I may as well do all I can to see it succeed. Zosime had to agree about that.’
Apollonides nodded. ‘They’ve convinced themselves the story will unfold just as they expect and make them the heroes of the day. The thing is, they can all describe a great fight with passion that leaves an audience breathless, but I wouldn’t want them beside me in a phalanx. Three men are already dead and Thallos is only alive thanks to Aphrodite’s intervention. If they’re left to do this on their own, I reckon there’ll be more blood on the streets. They’re performers, not fighters.’
I had come to that conclusion myself. I also remembered how well Apollonides had handled himself when we’d found ourselves pursued and attacked on the streets of Corinth.
‘I’ll be there to back you up,’ I promised. ‘And now I know what this bastard looks like.’
Apollonides grinned as I explained how that had happened. ‘Good to know. You can tell Menekles and Lysicrates.’
‘You’ve enlisted them?’ Zosime would be as relieved to hear that as I was.
‘Not yet.’ He nodded at his slave. ‘I was going to send Parmenon to ask them to come and see me.’
‘Tell them to meet us at Aristarchos’ house. We need to let him know what’s going on. We want Ambrakis and any other slaves he can spare on our side.’
‘The more the merrier,’ Apollonides agreed.
We ate and he wrote brief letters for his slave to take to the other actors.
When we reached Aristarchos’ house, we found the normally quiet street thronged with people. Neighbouring gates stood open as well-dressed families emerged.
‘Philocles!’
I looked for whoever had hailed me, and saw Hipparchos approaching. I was surprised to see Apollonides’ youngest son was wearing a linen and leather hoplite cuirass. He’d have done his military service in the cavalry, resplendent in a gleaming bronze breastplate, since his family was rich enough to bear the costs of keeping horses.
He grinned. ‘Are you heading out to the racecourse to see if Xenokrates wins?’
He clearly wasn’t planning to go. ‘What are you doing instead?’
‘I’m in training for the hoplite and chariot race.’
The event that takes the aristocratic love of a man risking his neck to honour the gods to new heights. I supposed I shouldn’t be surprised. Hipparchos wasn’t a coward, but he needed to curb his tendency to act first and think later.
‘Are you driving or running?’
His smile widened. ‘I’m running.’
The heroes celebrated by Homer might have ridden their chariots into battle, but I had been content to go to war on my own two feet. Hipparchos’ event would see him riding in a chariot in full armour down the Panathenaic Way from the Dipylon Gate. Then he would jump out to run the stadion course through the agora, before getting back into the still-moving vehicle for the dash to the finish at the Eleusinion at the foot of the Acropolis. The only thing I would relish less would be the challenge of being the driver in such a race, but since I’ve never been rich enough to learn how to handle a chariot team of two or four, that was never going to happen.
‘Good luck,’ I said fervently.
I didn’t care if he won. I’d settle for him not breaking his neck or being crushed under a chariot’s wheels. Aristarchos had lost one son in the same ill-fated military expedition that had killed my brother. The family didn’t need more grief.
‘See you later.’ He waved farewell to us both, and went on his way.
Apollonides watched him go. ‘Were you able to teach him anything?’
Playing tutor to the boy for a few months, I’d shown him how I composed speeches for men going to court, or wrote eulogies to honour the departed at funerals. Having him at my heels all day had been amusing and tiresome by turns. Still, I’d been happy to do Aristarchos that favour.
‘Not to trust his so-called friends just because they’re rich and well-born, and to look below the surface of tempting words.’
I fell silent as Aristarchos’ gate opened and he emerged with his wife on his arm. His other two sons escorted their three sisters. Their gold necklaces and hair adornments gleamed in the sunlight and embroidery brightened their crisp dresses. The Phytalids were dressed for a day of leisure among their wealthy friends I was glad to see Xenokrates had enough sense to watch the horses he had bred and trained, rather than risk his own life and limbs holding the reins as they competed. Ambrakis guarded the
