‘It might all be some misunderstanding.’ He shrugged. ‘But mistakes can be just as lethal as malicious intent. A man carelessly walking into a javelin’s path on a gymnasium field is as dead as one run through with a spear in battle.’
Was this the final answer to the puzzle of the dead man being dumped on my doorstep? Xandyberis’s killers could well have hoped to ruin my play’s chances by getting me accused of murder, at the same time as stirring up Carian outrage when they learned their envoy had been killed. If Strato had won the competition, then everyone would be talking about his play while annoyance with ungrateful Ionians swirled around the city. On the other hand, this could all be as far-fetched as any notion a dramatist might concoct.
Aristarchos continued, brisk. ‘Let’s see if we can gather a few more facts. There should be at least one of the tribute commissioners at the banquet I’m attending tonight. Meantime—’ he surprised me by clasping my hands in his own and smiling broadly ‘—let’s pretend we’ve been discussing The Builders. I’m assuring you that I thought your actors and your chorus did superbly well. Second place at your first Dionysia is absolutely no disgrace. Well done, to all of you.’
The warmth in his voice and the strength of his grip convinced me these congratulations were genuine. ‘Thank you.’
‘Better still, I don’t have to pay out yet more money on a plinth for the victor’s tripod. Go and celebrate with your players, and here’s some of the coin you’ve saved me.’
He turned to Lydis and the lithe slave reached inside the low-cut armhole of his sleeveless tunic. He produced a bulging leather pouch that had been concealed by the fullness of the cloth bunched up by his bronze-embossed belt.
Aristarchos dropped the purse into my hands. ‘This should keep the wine flowing.’
‘Thank you.’ Feeling the weight, I reckoned that much silver would quench every thirst in Soterides’s tavern.
‘Now, you must excuse me.’ Aristarchos shook my hand in farewell.
‘Of course.’ That was a relief. I could see my family waiting impatiently by Dionysos’s statue, along with Kadous and our other slaves. Menkaure and Zosime stood a few paces away.
Nymenios and Chairephanes greeted me with loud satisfaction over how well their leatherwork had performed. As I had anticipated, Mother and Melina had been tremendously entertained by Egeria, the lascivious Etruscan. Naturally, they were also scandalised, as was right and proper for respectable citizen women.
Kadous and the other slaves merely grinned broadly. I could see they were holding their tongues out of respect for my mother and my brother’s wife. There’d be plenty of ribald speculation the next time I visited the workshop, discussing where exactly I’d found inspiration for men exaggerating the length of their cocks.
‘I still don’t see why you didn’t win first prize,’ Mother complained.
Everyone echoed her with loyal and loud indignation.
‘As Dionysos is my judge,’ I assured them all, ‘it was a fine and fair result. Maybe I’ll do better next time.’
I noticed Melina hold out her hand to Nymenios. As he put a supporting arm round her waist, she leaned against him, closing her eyes.
‘It has been a very long day,’ I said. ‘Thank you so much for waiting to see me but you must be ready to get home and have something to eat.’
‘You’re dining with your actors, I take it?’ Nymenios looked mildly envious.
‘Dining and drinking,’ Chairephanes chuckled. He’d drunk more than his share of the day’s free wine.
‘Come and see us tomorrow.’ Mother embraced me in swathes of rosemary-scented pleated wool.
‘I will,’ I promised.
‘After the tragedy and the satyr play,’ Melina reminded me. ‘We’ll be coming to watch those.’
‘Of course.’ I watched them walk away before turning to Menkaure and Zosime.
The Egyptian grinned. ‘It was a very good play.’
Zosime threw her arms around my neck and kissed me long and deep. ‘I told you so,’ she said when she was forced to take a breath. ‘I’m so proud of you, my love.’
I kissed her back, just as fervently. ‘I couldn’t have done it without you.’ That was the simple truth.
She kissed the tip of my nose before taking a pace back and looking at the fat purse I was clutching. ‘What’s that?’
‘Silver to reward the chorus and actors, to pay for an evening’s revelry at Aristarchos’s expense.’ I looked at Menkaure. ‘Care to join us?’
He shook his head, amused. ‘I’ll see Zosime to Alopeke.’
‘Take Kadous, then he can bring you safely home,’ she said firmly.
‘There’s no need for that,’ I objected.
‘There could be,’ the Phrygian slave said darkly, ‘if you’re going to be spending coin like some sailor fresh off a boat in Piraeus. Someone could follow you down a dark alley to see if you’ve got anything left worth taking.’
‘We still don’t know who killed that Carian.’ The fear in Zosime’s eyes stifled my protest.
‘Very well,’ I capitulated.
Besides, if Kadous came with me, he could keep his ears open for anyone stirring up discontent around the taverns. That would put some of Aristarchos’s silver to good use.
Well, that was my intention. I can’t actually remember what anyone discussed that night. My chorus and the actors were intent on honouring Dionysos by drinking all the wine they could lay their hands on. I’ve no idea if I walked home or if Kadous had to carry me.
Chapter Sixteen
Zeus roused me the next morning with a thunderbolt that split my head in two. The thunder came again. And a third time. After that, I was forced to realise that my brains weren’t actually leaking onto my pillow. There was no hope of the Underworld’s shadowy peace. The worst had happened. I was alive, and I was awake. Fuck.
Next, I discovered I was lying face down, sprawled corner to corner across my bed. My empty bed. I guessed I hadn’t moved since they’d dumped me here to sleep off my folly. I was still wearing yesterday’s tunic. At least someone had taken
