Sarkuk looked preoccupied. ‘Shall we call back later?’
‘No, no,’ Aristarchos assured him. ‘Philocles and I have discussed all we need to.’
I nodded. ‘Yes, indeed.’
Aristarchos clapped his hands. ‘Seats, please, Mus. So, what have you learned from your fellow Ionians?’
As I helped Mus fetch stools from the opposite side of the courtyard, I heard the Carians detailing the taverns and meeting places where they’d sought out their countrymen while I was busy with wigs and musicians yesterday.
I should ask Menkaure and Kadous to see what they could find out as well, I decided as I waved farewell to Mus. ‘I’ll see you later.’
Heading for my family’s workshop, I was relieved to find Nymenios, Chairephanes and the slaves all busy cutting, decorating and sewing leather. ‘You have found some supplies.’
‘Not enough to keep us in business for long.’ Nymenios looked at me, anxious.
‘Aristarchos is doing all he can,’ I assured him. ‘And you can help.’
As I explained, Chairephanes laid down his tools. ‘I’ll go and see Pamphilos. He and Kalliphon will know if the city’s carpenters are seeing anyone disrupting their business.’
‘Tell them to be discreet,’ I insisted. ‘Only talk to men they trust.’
Chairephanes and I walked out of the gate and along the street together. When he stopped to knock on Pamphilos’s doorpost, I headed for Soterides’s tavern, down by the Itonian Gate. My luck was in. Apollonides and Lysicrates were sharing a late breakfast of cheese, olives and bread, along with a jug of well-watered amber wine.
‘Join us!’ Lysicrates beckoned.
‘Thanks.’ I took a stool at their table. The tavern keeper brought me a cup and I leaned in, elbows on the table. ‘How would you two like to do Aristarchos a valuable favour?’
‘Do tell,’ Apollonides invited.
I outlined our suspicions. I emphasised Parmenides’s claims that these plotters could influence the magistrates’ decisions over who would be awarded choruses for next year’s festivals, or who would be chosen as patrons for the plays. As I anticipated, both actors were outraged.
‘We want to know who Strato is friendly with,’ I explained, ‘and we’re interested in anyone sidling up to Leukippos.’
‘And if anyone else is sharpening words to slash at passing Ionians?’ Lysicrates’s eyes were bright.
‘Don’t risk getting knifed yourself.’ I showed my bandaged arm and told them what had so nearly happened to me. Their smiles faded. Satisfied, I got up from my stool. ‘Come and tell me what you hear, or leave word at Aristarchos’s house. But be careful,’ I warned a second time.
‘We will, we will.’ Apollonides waved me on my way.
It wasn’t far to Hyanthidas’s lodging. He rented one room of a house shared by an ever-changing array of musicians. He came into the courtyard looking so creased I guessed he’d slept in his tunic. He yawned as he offered to tear me a lump off the barley loaf he was eating.
‘No, thanks. I just wanted to let you know that everything went well last night. When do you need that pipe halter back?’
‘No hurry.’ He shrugged. ‘What did you find out?’
I told him and explained that Aristarchos wanted word of any symposium where the plotters might be gathering again.
Hyanthidas nodded. ‘I’ll keep my ears open.’
‘I know this isn’t really any concern of Corinth’s—’ I began.
He silenced me with an upraised hand. ‘There are greedy fools there as well. They’ll imagine they can pursue their local ambitions if Athens is distracted overseas.’
He wasn’t wrong. I remembered the long history of Athens and Corinth competing for influence over Apollo’s sanctuary at Delphi, as well as the more recent skirmishing in Aegina and Megara. These fool plotters could start a much wider war and see bloodshed far closer to home than the safely distant killing they intended to provoke.
‘Thanks.’ Leaving him yawning and eating his barley bread, I headed for the agora.
The market stalls were busy with workaday bustle instead of a festival throng. Traders offered everyday staples, not exotic dainties, and customers were haggling hard, not tempted into self-indulgence.
Men were going in and out of the Council Chamber, most likely those taking their turn as the Council’s executive. That particular responsibility is taken in turn by each group of fifty men nominated annually as councillors by every voting tribe. That’s only one of the checks and balances that safeguard our democracy.
I found it hard to believe these conspirators really could overcome all such measures and pitch Athens into war. These laws had been instituted precisely to make sure that our city never again fell prey to oligarchy or tyranny, subject to the greedy ambitions of a few. But the men at that banquet had seemed very sure of themselves. I glanced up at the Acropolis and silently begged gracious Athena to show me how to bring down these bastards who so blatantly scorned our democracy.
Public slaves were taking down some of the whitewashed and red-painted boards hanging from plinths and altars. That made plenty of space for new decrees and proposals. Those measures would be put before the popular assembly as soon as the executive committee summoned the full council to approve them.
Normally I wouldn’t have thought anything of it. Today I wondered if the plotters had some allies already at work in the Council Chamber, enlisting support for some spiteful rebuke guaranteed to rouse Ionian ire.
The hum of businesslike conversations rather than visiting philosophers’ bold declamations filled the Painted Colonnade. There were no story-telling historians here today to impress idling festival-goers and garner their appreciative coin. There would be plenty of Athenians wanting something or other written though, prompted by family news or a commercial agreement made during the Dionysia.
I found a space at one end of the colonnade and perched on the topmost step, along with the other humble scribblers. That meant I was well able to see inside where the more exalted writers set up folding tables and stools for their clients. Glaukias was in his usual spot, secured by long custom and his exalted reputation.
‘Looking for anyone in particular?’ Phrynichos put his cushion down beside me.
He
