Killing Pythagoras (Mediterranean Prize Winner 2015) (59 page)

CHAPTER 130

July 29
th
, 510 B.C.

The time has come to destroy the community
.

The masked man had just returned to the Council after the attack on Milo’s house. He observed the hall from the dais. Seven hundred strained faces were turned toward him, and there was a large empty space on the left tier of seats, where the three hundred Pythagoreans had formerly sat.

From the black mask a hoarse, fervent whisper issued, startling the councilors.

“We’ve beheaded the serpent, but we must do the same thing Heracles did with Hydra: make sure no new heads appear.” The masked man leaned toward them and continued with greater intensity. “Or do you want the brotherhood, the monster that kept you subjugated, to turn the city of Croton and this Council back into its flock of sheep?”

“No!” roared the seven hundred councilors in unison.

The masked man nodded with satisfaction. The councilors were drunk on resentment and violence. They’d do anything he asked. He had to try and keep them in that state long enough to destroy everything related to Pythagoras.

He raised his arms, and continued his diatribe without hiding the delight in his voice.

“Then let us use our strength, our army, to raze the compound. There must not be one stone left atop another in that warren whose inhabitants have manipulated and dishonored Croton for decades!”

The councilors applauded him enthusiastically. He continued to incite them though he was impatient to act. Cylon had insisted it was necessary to go through the Council, and he had had to admit he was right. He needed legal support to use the army…at least for now.

Soon, I’ll get rid of the Council and become the sole ruler of Croton
.

From his seat, Cylon watched the masked man, fascinated by his absolute control over the Council. He was fully aware that this man had used him to gain this position, but he wasn’t going to make the mistake of fighting against him.

The most intelligent thing is to try and continue being his right-hand man
.

The masked man had said they had “beheaded the serpent,” but the truth was Pythagoras had escaped. Both he and the masked man had witnessed it. After stepping over Milo’s slashed body, they had ridden along a narrow trail that ended at a beach. When they arrived, there was a small boat some fifty yards offshore, and another had just put out to sea. In the furthest vessel, they could make out Pythagoras. Their soldiers had hastily ridden into the water and hurled their lances after the nearest boat without success. There were no other boats with which to pursue them, so all they could do was resign themselves to watching them escape.

We’ll catch him
, Cylon said to himself, not entirely convinced.

At least it was certain they had delivered a blow to the brotherhood from which it would be difficult to recover. By attacking the Pythagorean summit, they had killed most of the grand masters and regional leaders. Cylon had walked among the bodies strewn in the courtyard in Milo’s villa and identified several of the most prominent Pythagoreans, such as grand master Evander.

And now we’re going after the main community
, he thought with a shiver of pleasure.

A quarter of the army obeyed the officers they had bribed. Besides, since Milo was dead, there was no one left capable of organizing the rest of the troops in time to avoid the next attack. They would surround the compound with thousands of soldiers and end the lives of all the Pythagoreans in a matter of minutes.

Except for the ones we take as slaves
, he corrected himself with a smile.

Cylon didn’t know the masked man had trapped Ariadne. He imagined she would be in the compound and dreamed about the moment she would fall into his hands. His mouth watered as he fantasized about two soldiers holding her down while he raped here then and there.

I’ve had to wait fifteen years to savor her
, he thought, remembering when he had ordered her kidnapping. Then, Pythagoras had managed to rescue her before Cylon had had time to enjoy her. Now, there was no one left to help her.

He also planned on making a slave of Damo, Pythagoras’ other daughter, now Milo’s widow. And maybe Theano, Pythagoras’ wife, though she would be sent to the kitchens. Older women didn’t appeal to him.

He closed his eyes to recreate more vividly the moment he had relived throughout his life. Pythagoras appeared before him in a scene from thirty years ago, humiliating him in front of the community, declaring publicly that he didn’t have the qualities necessary to enter his School.

Cylon’s face lit up when he imagined the devastation that was about to occur at the scene of his humiliation.

Ariadne galloped through the city’s northern gate.

She continued through the streets of Croton without slowing down. At her approach the frightened Crotonians pressed themselves against the walls of the houses. Ariadne was riding Boreas’ enormous horse, the only steed she had found when she left the underground room where the giant’s dead body now lay.

All her muscles tensed when she caught sight of the Council building. There were more soldiers than usual standing guard at the open doors. She knew the guards never allowed anyone in while a session was in progress.

But I need them to listen to me immediately
.

One of the soldiers noticed that striking image: a fair-haired woman riding a huge horse, galloping toward the Council at breakneck speed. The guard descended the three steps in front of the portico and waited in surprise for the young woman to arrive. It looked like she was dressed in a ripped tunic tied together with cords.

When she was a few yards away, the soldier raised a hand, signaling the woman to stop beside him.

Ariadne spurred the horse and launched herself toward the open doors.

CHAPTER 131

July 29
th
, 510 B.C.

The masked man stopped mid-sentence, unable to believe his eyes. Ariadne had just burst into the Council hall on horseback. A second later, several hoplites came running in, but she left them behind, riding over the large mosaic of Heracles of Croton. The small tiles scattered like gravel under the horse’s massive hooves.

The councilors shouted in surprise and indignation. Cylon jumped to his feet.

“Detain her!” he shouted, alarmed. Pythagoras’ daughter was heading straight for the dais, looking as though she would hurl herself together with the enormous horse on top of the masked man.

The dais was five feet high. Ariadne stopped the horse at its base, nearly coming face to face with her enemy. Some of the councilors who were closer rushed to create a protective barrier around him. The masked man evaded them, pointed at Ariadne with an accusatory finger, and spoke as loudly as his hoarse, sinister voice allowed.

“This is Pythagoras’ daughter, spawn of the serpent!”

Ariadne pointed at him in turn and shouted, her voice as strong and firm as her father’s. “This man to whom you pay so much attention, who hides behind a mask to carry out his evil designs, is a disciple of Pythagoras!”

Her words caused a universal exclamation of astonishment. She continued, turning vigorously to both sides of the hall.

“He’s a traitor and a criminal who has tried to manipulate you with his dark arts so as to carry out acts unworthy of this Council!”

Ariadne realized the soldiers were about to fall on her. She made her horse turn and prance to keep them at a distance. The masked man tried to talk, but she shouted over him with every last bit of strength in her lungs.

“The man who is standing on the dais of this respectable Council is a grand master, and he’s deceiving you, just as he deceived my father. He was part of my father’s intimate circle up until a few months ago, when he faked his own murder!”

Many councilors fixed their gaze on the man on the dais. Ariadne faced him once more.

“The man hiding behind that black mask…” she pointed at him again, and roared at the top of her voice, “is Daaruk!”

The din in the hall was replaced instantly by a stunned silence. They all knew Daaruk was one of the grand masters who had accompanied Pythagoras until he died of poisoning. They also remembered that his body had been cremated in a funeral pyre, according to the tradition of his foreign culture.

The masked man grunted in rage while everyone watched him in amazement. Even Cylon was paralyzed with suspense. He wanted to stop Ariadne, but it would be political suicide to back the masked man if he really was Daaruk.

The soldiers gave up their attempts to drag Ariadne off her horse. She pulled on the reins and brought the horse around to face her enemy. The sound of its hooves was clearly audible now.

“Kill her.” The masked man’s order was a hoarse caw of hatred. It vibrated for a few seconds in the expectant atmosphere of the hall, then died away when no one reacted.

He hadn’t denied the accusation.

Suddenly, a veteran hoplite who had climbed onto the dais pushed his way through the small knot of men, and seized the masked man from behind. Before anyone could intervene, he grasped the mask at the chin, and pulled it off with a jerk.

All the councilors, the soldiers, and even Ariadne herself were shocked when they saw that face. The dark skin, thick lips, the color of his eyes… There was no question it was Daaruk, but the skin was changed, twisted across the forehead and down the right side, as if it had been burned. Half the mouth and one eyelid were so deformed he couldn’t close them.

Daaruk cast a quick glance around him. He could still try to undo the advantage Ariadne had gained.

“The reason why…”

Ariadne was quick to shout, drowning out Daaruk’s hoarse whisper.

“He planned to take control of the Council, and he isn’t even Greek!”

That sparked an immediate wave of heated protests. The Greeks had a very deep-rooted sense of community. Anyone who wasn’t Greek was considered to be a barbarian, of inferior status.

“I’ll tell you where his hideout is!” shouted Ariadne before Daaruk could answer. “There you’ll find the body of his monstrous slave, and thousands of pounds of gold!”

Ariadne knew Daaruk had acquired much of his influence through bribery. Now she was offering them an incalculable amount of money if they turned against him. She was certain it was the best argument she could use to win over those fickle, corrupt politicians.

But I’m going to give them even more
, she thought, trying hard not to let her eyes reveal the contempt she felt for them.

“Do you know how Daaruk got all his gold?!” The councilors were hanging on her every word. No one was paying attention to Daaruk anymore. “He organized the revolt in Sybaris! He helped the revolutionaries in exchange for them allowing him to sack Glaucus’ palace!” The Council roared fervently, and Ariadne continued even more forcefully. “Daaruk deceived, confused, and manipulated the rebels, the governments, and the armies… All the tragic events of recent times have been his doing! He is the one responsible for everything that has happened!”

Surrounded by the deafening uproar, Daaruk realized he had lost the battle. Ariadne had just put forward the definitive argument to make the councilors side with her. The politicians knew that both the people and the army would demand answers, and Ariadne had just given them an explanation that exonerated them of everything…as well as filling their coffers with gold. There was no doubt they would all agree that the person responsible was the evil foreigner.

I have to get out of here
. Daaruk looked around like a caged wild animal. The dais had filled with councilors and soldiers who surrounded him on all sides except directly in front of him where Ariadne was, her arm raised, turning her horse as she delivered her diatribe to the Council. At that moment, she had her back to him. In one swift movement, the ex-grand master rushed to the edge of the dais and leapt forward onto the horse’s back, colliding with Ariadne from behind. Shoving Pythagoras’ accursed daughter off, he dug his heels in and set off at a gallop on the high-strung beast.

Ariadne grabbed a councilor’s arm as she toppled over, but ended up on the ground. She lifted her head and saw the soldiers guarding the door step back shamelessly to allow the horse through.

Daaruk crossed the portico like a flash of lightning.

CHAPTER 132

July 29
th
, 510 B.C.

Akenon’s broken nose prevented him from breathing.

Air could only reach his lungs through his mouth. He felt as if he was drowning when he attempted to swallow. Desperate, he tried to clear his throat, but the pain in his neck made his throat seize up. He felt his body stiffening and panic set in.

I’m suffocating!

He concentrated, using all his willpower, and managed to relax enough for the muscle spasm to abate. Little by little, air began to enter his lungs.

He hadn’t seen the masked man or Boreas since the day they had caught him.
Will they be back to torture me, or will they leave me to die a slow death?
he wondered in the darkness of his suffering. He had only regained consciousness two hours before, after having been unconscious for three days. He almost wished he could pass out again to be free of that asphyxiating, painful torment.

He was in semidarkness, his arms and legs tied to a chair. The light filtering through the crack under the door indicated it was daytime outside. He lowered his head and whimpered softly. The pain in his neck increased when he moved his head, but he needed to see if he could move his hands. Making a huge effort, he managed to get the tips of his fingers to slide on the armrest. He turned his head, and checked his other hand. His field of vision was reduced. The head-butt Boreas had given him which had broken his nose had also made the right side of his face swell up so he couldn’t open his eye.

He closed his good eye, and remembered the moment he had realized the masked man’s identity. It had happened while he was walking with Pythagoras in Croton. He had distractedly taken out Daaruk’s ring and suddenly understood that he was the masked man. The revelation paralyzed him for a few moments. As soon as he could react, he had hurriedly taken his leave of Pythagoras and gone to see Eritrius, the custodian, where he asked to be shown a list of Daaruk’s assets. His estate included an old property in the countryside that had belonged to the grand master’s parents, and which had been abandoned for decades. Immediately, he had gone to inspect it.

And Boreas disarmed me as if I were a boy.

Daaruk had removed the metal mask once Akenon was bound. His face, deformed by fire, took Akenon back several months to the day when Atma, Daaruk’s slave, had prepared the funeral pyre for his master. Akenon and Ariadne had witnessed the final phase of the pyre’s construction, as well as the moment Atma set it alight.

But we didn’t see through the hoax.

He wasn’t sure how the farce had been orchestrated, but could imagine most of it. He supposed that on the funeral pyre, contrary to what he and Ariadne had thought, Atma hadn’t used a flammable substance to daub Daaruk’s body and the cloths covering him, but instead, some nonflammable product. Then, he must have poured the oil only on the pyre’s edges, so that the flames would initially surround Daaruk without reaching him completely. The nonflammable substance must have protected Daaruk for a minute or two. He could see now that it had been enough time to allow him to slip into the water and escape, taking advantage of the nocturnal darkness, even though it hadn’t prevented half his face from getting burned. And, considering his voice, it seemed the hot smoke had also burned his throat.

Akenon imagined Atma had probably placed a dead body among the branches of the funeral pyre, underneath Daaruk. The charred bones of that corpse were what Akenon had collected the next day. The deception had been meticulously prepared, to such a level of detail that Atma had even put Daaruk’s ring on the other body.

But he made a mistake
, thought Akenon now in the solitude of his captivity.

It was a mistake that had stared him in the face, but which hadn’t registered in his brain until three days ago, when he had distractedly examined Daaruk’s ring. All the times he had seen him, the grand master had been wearing the ring with the pentacle on his right hand.

The body on the pyre was wearing it on its left hand
.