‘That depends on the answers to some questions. As soon as Nymenios gets back, we’ll go and see what we can learn.’
‘You two are not to go off getting into trouble,’ Mother said sharply, as though we were beardless boys heading for a day’s larks at the gymnasium.
‘We won’t,’ I promised, just as sincerely as I’d always promised her. Which is to say, I was mentally adding, ‘Unless someone else starts it.’
As a schoolboy I’d learned the trick of turning a conversation to distract her, and I hadn’t lost that knack either. ‘So, do you think Chairephanes and Glykera will marry?’
‘He’ll be a fool not to ask for her,’ she said crisply.
‘How soon?’ I prompted.
Discussing Pamphilos’s daughter’s merits and pondering the likely timing of the wedding, as well as where the newlyweds might set up home, kept us all happily occupied until I heard the gate opening down below and Nymenios calling for his wife.
I rose to my feet. ‘I’d better—’
‘Yes, go.’ Melina waved me away.
Down in the courtyard, Nymenios looked torn between exasperation at the time he had wasted and shock at the sight of my bruises. ‘I thought playwriting was a safe trade.’
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ I offered him a sincerely apologetic grimace before I told my tale for the third time that morning, though I still didn’t mention Hipparchos’s involvement.
‘I want to see if I can find out which temple those old theatre masks were stolen from. You want to find out who’s paying over the odds for the hides from the Dionysia sacrifices. How about we go and ask our questions together? Then I can stand as a citizen witness for whatever you find out, and you can stand witness for me.’
Every temple has its loyal families so, with luck, I’d learn if someone with ties to our existing suspects knew where those particular masks were easily accessible. Or maybe I’d hear that someone who didn’t belong had been hanging around just before the masks went missing. Either way, with Athena’s blessing, I’d pick up something that would chime with whatever Aristarchos learned. Something to lead us to solid evidence that would ring true in court.
Nymenios scowled. ‘I told you. None of the priests are saying who they’re selling to.’
I raised a hand. ‘The priests who are profiting and being paid to keep their mouths shut will all be at the theatre. Whoever’s in the doghouse will be tending the altars today. There’s nothing like a little resentment to loosen a man’s tongue.’
Nymenios still looked dubious. ‘I don’t think—’
‘Let’s start with the Temple of Hephaistos. Remember what Dexios said? The first batch of hides to go missing wasn’t bought out from under his nose. That cartload was stolen, so let’s see what we can learn. I’m sure I remember seeing some of the masks I’m looking for there.’
‘I suppose so,’ Nymenios said ungraciously. ‘I might as well make some use of the day. As long as we don’t get ourselves into trouble.’
‘That’s what I promised Mother,’ I assured him.
‘Not unless someone else starts it, you mean,’ Nymenios answered, with a glint in his eye. ‘I’ll let Melina know what we’re doing.’
As he headed inside, I stayed in the courtyard. He could run the gauntlet of Mother’s interrogation. As the eldest, it was only fair he shouldered such obligations along with enjoying his birthright’s privileges. A few moments later, Mother came outside with him, protesting, as I’d known she would.
‘At least wait for your brother. Take some of the slaves with you.’
‘If we turn up mob-handed, there’s bound to be trouble,’ Nymenios countered.
‘The two of us will just be brothers out for a stroll,’ I agreed. ‘Why shouldn’t we pay our respects at a temple and enjoy a little conversation? Where’s the threat in that?’
‘Shall I fetch you a mirror?’ Mother asked acidly. ‘I don’t suppose you were threatening anyone last night!’
‘All the more reason for me to be extra careful today,’ I assured her. ‘I couldn’t wrestle a wooden duck off Hestaios. Believe me, I won’t do anything foolish.’
‘I won’t let him,’ Nymenios said firmly.
Mother glared at the pair of us and stomped off back into the house. Setting out, we exchanged a rueful glance as the slave closed the gate behind us.
‘We had better come back safe and sound,’ Nymenios said, ‘or Mother will find her way down to the Underworld just to box our ears.’
‘So will Zosime, and Melina.’ I glanced sideways at him as we walked. ‘I was surprised to find her at home today. Is she unwell?’
His veiled look told me he knew what I was asking. ‘Not unwell, Demeter willing.’
So they weren’t going to announce their hopes until there was no hiding the news. I wondered if that would make loss easier to bear, if this early promise didn’t bear fruit. I couldn’t imagine it would.
While we were making this tour of the temples, I’d seek every god and goddess’s favour for them. Though there was little reason to fear for Melina, I told myself firmly. She’d already borne three healthy children, as well as the poor mite born between Hestaios and Kalliphon who didn’t see out his first month. I need not dwell on our sister Ianthine’s fate.
Though that was easier said than done as we walked towards the agora. Thermopylae aside, there’s precious little to admire about Spartans, but that’s one thing they do right. Their women who die in childbirth are honoured as the equals of soldiers who’ve died in battle.
As we approached the marketplace, I tensed, alert for any hint of trouble. To my relief, there were no rabble-rousing orators whipping up spite against Ionians like foam on a stormy sea. A scattering of visitors admired the monuments.
