The Marathon Conspiracy (35 page)

Aeschylus said, “I concede you’re right, Nicolaos. That does seem inevitable.”

Callias clasped Thea’s left hand. With tears in his eyes, he said, “I cannot tell you how much it pleases me that you survived. I only wish you’d come to me before. I could have helped you.”

Thea shrugged. “I’ve tried so hard to forget those times. To this day, I still have nightmares. I see myself ejected from the ceremony, and then I see my brother cut down. It’s kind of you,
Callias, but I had everything I needed here. The sanctuary succored me, and I’ve served the Goddess.”

I said, “We now come to the next part of the sequence. Hippias was dropped at Brauron because he’d been wounded at Marathon. He needed a doctor, and quickly. The evidence of the doctor proves Hippias survived the battle. He probably even survived the doctor.

“Tell me,” I said, “what do most people do to get their strength back when they recover from a wound?”

“They go for walks,” Aeschylus said. “They start with short ones, then make them longer as they become stronger.”

“Yes, and if you were Hippias, in Attica, after the battle at Marathon, when would you go for a walk?”

“On the darkest nights possible,” said Aeschylus grimly. “The tyrant would hide for fear that I or someone like me would run into him.”

“Correct! And who did we just hear was walking about the countryside at night?”

Aeschylus frowned. “Zeke?”

“No, Zeke scouted the countryside
before
the battle. Afterward, he was in hiding, waiting for the Athenian army to disperse. There was one very important find that came with the skeleton, one that Sabina didn’t send along with the scrolls. If she had, everything might have turned out differently. Among the ribs, hidden amongst them and the dirt, was a knife. Scratched into one side were the names Harmodius and Aristogeiton. Scratched into the other side was the name Leana. It’s overwhelmingly likely that this was the murder weapon. Those names were the killer’s motive. Now that we have discovered the sister of Harmodius, the name of the killer is obvious.”

“Not Thea!” Callias exclaimed.

“Thea,” I said.

“Is this true?” Callias asked. “Are you, Thea, the true Tyrannicide?”

Thea said in a small voice, “It is as Nicolaos says. One evening
I was walking back from visiting Zeke—I went to see him every spare moment—when I saw coming in the other direction an old man. He shuffled along. It was dark, I didn’t recognize Hippias until he was upon me, and he never recognized me at all.” She stopped and looked at us each in turn. “You must remember, I was thirty-one then, and in my prime. He hadn’t seen me since I was seven.”

Several heads nodded at her explanation.

“Hippias said, ‘Good evening, Priestess.’ I’d never thought to have such a chance. He shambled, like a sick, weak, old man. I boiled with anger that welled up until I couldn’t control it. I drew my knife and I stabbed him in the heart. I stabbed him over and over.” Thea shuddered. “Then, when he was dead and I’d come to my senses, I scratched into the blade the names of the people I’d avenged. I wanted his shade to know why he’d died. I pushed the knife back into him and then I went to tell Zeke what I’d done. Together we carried him to the cave where Zeke and his men had hidden. That’s the entire story. I only regret that I couldn’t kill him before he destroyed my family.”

Callias said, “With your permission, Zeke?”

Zeke nodded.

Callias wrapped Thea up in a massive hug.

“All of Athens owes you a debt, lady, and I look forward to paying it. I shall commission your statue and have it raised upon the Acropolis. You shall stand next to my Leana, whom you avenged.”

Thea pushed Callias back in horror. “Please, no, Callias! I’d prefer no one to ever know. I want my brother Harmodius and his friend Aristogeiton to be remembered as the Tyrannicides.”

“But it’s not true,” Callias said, puzzled. “You know it’s not. This makes no sense.”

“They died for it; I didn’t. Leana too. I remember her.” Thea stopped to wipe away a tear.

“What of my Allike?” Aposila said. “Did you kill her, too?”

Thea shook her head violently. “No! Of course not. I’d never harm a child. Not after what I went through.”

“Thea’s right,” I said. “It’s impossible for either her or Zeke to have hurt Allike. Neither has the strength to dismemb—” I realized Allike’s mother was in the room. “That is, to hurt someone. But luckily for us, the answer to the worst of crime of all—the murder of a child—becomes simple once we remove all the distractions of those other mysteries. There can be only one person who hurt your daughter, Aposila. It had to be a man. It had to be a man who knew of the discovery of the skeleton. That narrows the suspects. What’s more, it had to be a man who stood to lose from the discovery.

“I asked you before, Callias and Aeschylus, what would happen to the man who killed Hippias. You said he’d be a certain winner in the elections.”

“Yes.”

“But what if the man who protected Hippias was up for election? What if we could prove it?”

“He certainly wouldn’t win any election,” said Callias.

“Dead men can’t,” Aeschylus added grimly.

“I thought as much. Then tell me, who is the only man in this case who knew of the skeleton, who has property in Brauron, and who might have hidden Hippias?”

Thea got there first. “Glaucon?” she said.

“Glaucon. Glaucon must have harbored Hippias. It’s the
only
explanation consistent with everything we know. When Glaucon saw the message from Sabina, he must have opened the scrolls and seen his own name prominently displayed at the end of scroll five. The discovery would have destroyed his chances at the election. In fact, it would have killed him! Glaucon pulled the fifth scroll.”

Callias scratched his head. “But you told me Glaucon confessed, and you didn’t believe him.”

“Glaucon confessed to killing
Hippias
. When I mentioned
the girls, he acted like he’d never heard of them. But that had to be false, because he was the first one to read the report Sabina sent to Athens. Glaucon lied to me. He took credit for a killing he didn’t commit, and then denied all knowledge of the perfidy he did commit.”

“Raiders! Raiders!”

The voices came from outside. Girls screamed.

“Dear Gods, it’s happening again,” Thea whispered.

I
WAS FIRST OUT
the door, but only because I was closest. Sabina was right behind me. Everyone piled out behind us in an untidy heap.

Sabina ran to the end of the bridge. She stood there, staring open-mouthed. On the other side, about to cross, were men, ten or more, and they were armed with spears. Bringing up the rear was—

“Is that
Glaucon
?” Callias said, shocked.

“It is,” I said.

“Amazing how he arrives just as he’s revealed to be the murderer.”

“Isn’t it.” My mind was working furiously, and no doubt so was Diotima’s. We exchanged looks, and I knew we were thinking the same thing.

To a man, the temple slaves rushed to the bridge to defend it, and to a man, they went down. The attackers had been prepared for the first rush. Three of the slaves took spear thrusts to the stomach. They rolled on the ground in agony. The other two slaves weren’t so badly hurt. They turned and ran. I couldn’t blame them. No one expects a slave to die for his owners; that they’d tried to protect the girls at all was to their credit.

But now we were exposed.

“Get the girls into the stoa!” It was Gaïs. Everyone looked at her in shock. For possibly the first time in her life, Gaïs had said something that made sense.

Gaïs spread her arms like a net and pushed the girls back into
the stoa. Doris joined her. The girls heeded them and ran for cover.

“What do we do now?” Aposila asked.

“We fight,” Gaïs said.

“What have we got to fight with?” I asked Zeke.

“Nothing,” he said bluntly. “This is a sanctuary, not a barracks.” Zeke turned and ran. I stared in shock for a moment. I hadn’t expected that.

I said, “Diotima, take your bow and get up on the roof. Lie low and pick off targets when you see an opportunity.”

“No, Nico. I’ll stay here and—”

“Don’t argue with me,” I said, and I meant it. “I don’t have time to deal with it. Get up there and shoot.”

Diotima blinked, and looked at me as if she’d never seen me before. Then she said, “Yes, Nico.”

I hauled the sanctuary’s only ladder from where it lay against the shed and set it against the back wall of the main building. As I did, Diotima picked up the skirt of her chiton to stuff the material beneath her belt so that her bare feet were clear to climb. She hooked her sleeves over the brooches at her shoulders and scampered up. I handed up her bow and every arrow she owned.

“Are you safely up?”

“Yes, Nico.”

I pulled the ladder away to let it fall to the ground. I grabbed the sanctuary’s axe and used it to smash every rung of the ladder. Good. Even if the enemy broke in, Diotima would be out of their reach.

I dropped the axe to return to the bridge. As I did Aposila ran up from behind, grabbed the axe and followed me. She’d die instantly if it came to real combat, but there was no time to argue with her. Besides, Aposila wasn’t Diotima; Aposila wasn’t my problem.

“I’m ready.” Aeschylus strode into the courtyard. He was dressed in his hoplite armor: the huge round shield painted with
the face of a snarling gorgon, the sharp spear in his right hand, and the helmet that covered his face and made him look like a remorseless automaton.

Except that I knew different.

“You can’t be serious,” I blurted. “You’re a sixty-five-year-old man.”

“So am I,” Zeke returned. “And I too am ready for combat.” From wherever he’d hidden them all these years, Zeke had retrieved the dress of his former life, an officer of the Persian Immortals. He wore heavy scale armor of a type I’d only ever seen in Ionia, where the Persians ruled: hundreds of small metal plates attached to a leather jerkin. In his right hand, he wielded the sword I’d retrieved from the Sacred Spring. It had lost the leather of its handle, but that wouldn’t stop a veteran. In his left he held a wicker shield.

Callias had nothing but his dagger. He drew this and stood beside them in the only order that made sense for the armaments they carried: Zeke on the left with his smaller shield, Aeschylus in the middle where his large hoplon gave them the best protection, and Callias in the place of honor on the right, where the dagger in his right hand was free to strike. Aeschylus called the time.

“March!”

They marched.

It was ludicrous.

They were going to be slaughtered. The greatest playwright the world had ever known was about to die, and when it happened, Pericles was going to blame me.

Then I reflected that these were heroes of Marathon, even if Zeke had been on the other side. These three ancient men would fight until they’d been torn to shreds, and even then, with their last breath they’d struggle to win.

The veterans didn’t break step. They met the enemy on the green verge of the sanctuary’s lawn. They clashed their shields against the invaders, then with great shouts to unnerve their
opponents they sought to drive their swords through the enemy shield wall. The weapons bounced. The brigands tried the same, but nor could they find a gap. After that both sides settled to the deadly business of armored combat.

Glaucon stood behind the line of raiders and urged them on. He made no attempt to help his men. A look at the attackers told me they were mercenaries. Hellas was full of them, all looking for work. These ones were armed with shield and spear and probably short sword for emergencies. The shield barrier made it hard for our men to touch them.

I looked for some way I could come at Glaucon.

“Callias is dead!” one of the women screamed.

I whirled around.

Callias was thoroughly unconscious. Blood flowed from his head. Aeschylus and Zeke fought on. I thought about carrying Callias to cover, then realized there was no point. If we lost here, no one was safe.

Gaïs took Ophelia by the shoulders and looked her in the eyes. She said, “Ophelia, if those men break in here, even if we’re still alive,
especially
if they kill the men but capture us priestesses, you’re to lead all the girls to the farm where you hid. Can you find it again?”

“Yes, Gaïs,” Ophelia said.

Gaïs kissed Ophelia on the lips. “Good girl.”

When the brigands had decided to attack a girls’ school, they probably hadn’t expected to face heavy infantry. Their surprise told in the caution of their attack. I knew it was only two old men, but the raiders didn’t: the armor covered the faces and chests of Aeschylus and Zeke, and anything else that might give away their age. Certainly neither of them moved like old men. I could see the slowness of their counter-strokes, but only because I was looking for it.

But their skill would eventually count for little when it was two against so many. They gave ground; it was only a matter of
moments before they were flanked. Aeschylus and Zeke turned to fight back to back, each moving in one fluid motion. My old drill instructor would have smiled to see it.

An arrow flew over my head. It came from behind. Diotima had found her perch, and now she was trying for targets. The first shot missed, but her second elicited a painful yell from someone in that melee.

I had to do something to help, but with only my dagger and no armor to protect me, I knew that like Callias I wouldn’t stand for long. I needed a better weapon.

Then I realized where I could get one.

I turned and ran.

Rollo had been tied to a tree out back of the sanctuary. Zeke had replaced the light chain Ophelia had used with a heavy one that even the enormous bear couldn’t break. Then he’d secured the chain with a wooden lock too heavy for a child to lift.

I grabbed the lock with both hands and shoved upward. The lock came off. I unwrapped the chain from the tree trunk.