The Pericles Commission (30 page)

Xanthippus was panting and exhausted. Experienced strategos he may be, but he was also an old man. I held Pericles while Xanthippus probed the wound with his dagger. Xanthippus declared, “An honorable wound but not a dangerous one. The arrowhead penetrated but there are no arteries cut. You have the luck of the Gods, son. And thank you for saving my life.”

Pericles said, “It was more than my filial duty, father. Athens needs you. I need you.” He paused. “I would have missed you.”

I said, “Somebody else saved both your lives; in fact, two some-bodies.”

Pericles asked, “Who are they?”

“Me.” Diotima walked in out of the darkness, carrying her bow. “Pythax and I shot at the same time. Where is he, Nicolaos? Is he all right?”

“I’m still alive,” Pythax said, returning to the firelight. He was covered in blood.

Archestratus was still alive, to my amazement. He was bleeding out and would die within hours, faster if we pulled the arrows. In the meantime he was groaning and screaming in self-pity.

Diotima took out the sacrificial knife she used as a priestess, the short, curved blade that looked razor sharp, with a small handle.

I said in alarm, “Diotima, what are you doing!”

She looked at me, and at Pythax and Pericles and Xanthippus, with hard eyes.

“He killed my father, and I remind you all I am a priestess of the Huntress. This one is my rightful sacrifice.”

She walked into the darkness where Archestratus lay. He saw her coming, holding the knife. He shouted, “No! No! No!” over and over again until his voice was cut off by bubbling sounds.

Pythax said, “Well, all I can say is I’m glad I’m just a dumb guard. How are you statesmen going to explain this?”

Pericles and Xanthippus looked at each other.

I added, “Of course, it would never occur to either of you to tell the people the truth.”

Pericles said, “Nicolaos, you had a taste of what happens when someone tries to tell the people a complex story. Did you notice the dicasts were perfectly happy to watch Euterpe tear her clothes off and make accusations? Did you notice when Diotima tried to explain what really happened they ignored her?”

I hate it when Pericles says something I know to be morally wrong but logically right. “For the good of the state, is it? Or for the good of Pericles and Xanthippus?”

“The first because that is necessity, the second by accident,” Pericles replied. At least he had the grace to be embarrassed.

Pythax reminded us, “It’ll be light soon. There better be an explanation for the corpses before then.”

I replied, “Let me see if I too can be a cynical politician and tell lies for the greater good. Here’s my suggestion: a quiet meeting of Xanthippus, Pericles, and Archestratus was held tonight to resolve the many problems Athens faces. A mob of drunken thugs happened along and attempted to rob them. The trio put up a strong resistance and called for help. Pythax, your two Scythians responded to the cries and saved our leaders before succumbing to their wounds. I’m sorry to report Archestratus fell while putting up a brave fight.”

“Sounds reasonable. And Rizon over there?”

I shrugged. “Will anyone care? Maybe he happened upon the scene by accident.”

Xanthippus said, “That sounds very believable, especially considering the fires I can still see burning. No doubt there’ll be a few corpses in the streets of Athens come morning, so a small collection out here won’t be too remarkable.”

“I’m glad you like my story. Now, what did your meeting agree upon?”

“Did it have to agree anything? We were interrupted by the robbery.”

“It most certainly did. Let me help your memory. To start with, the son of Brasidas will receive an order for new bows and equipment. I think about three hundred ought to be enough to set him up in business. An order that size will encourage the father’s customers to return to the son.”

Xanthippus winced but nodded. “The state coffers won’t run to that sort of money. I’ll donate them to the city out of my own pocket.”

“How very thoughtful of you, sir. Next, the bill for citizenship for Pythax goes through.”

Xanthippus and Pericles both nodded to that one. Pericles said, “The Ecclesia would have to vote on it.”

“With both you and Xanthippus recommending the bill I wouldn’t expect any trouble.”

“True enough. Go on.”

“I would prefer not to be executed in the morning.”

Xanthippus said, “It’s an imposition, but I suppose I’ll have to forgo the pleasure this time around. No doubt, given your propensities, I’ll have other opportunities. But, young man, if you expect to live to see the next noon, you must give the Council something in return for rescinding the execution order.”

I sighed. I’d expected this. “I must never breathe a word to anyone that the Council made a deal with Themistocles.”

“I see you can manage a firm grip on political necessity when it’s your own life in jeopardy. Swear it.”

“I swear. May I be visited by the Friendly Ones should I ever utter a word on the subject.”

“That will do. Are we done with the demands?”

“Not quite. Diotima’s intended is lying over there with his guts decorating the sand. Therefore she is now a ward of the state, not required to marry anyone.”

Pericles sneered. “And the estate of Ephialtes becomes her dowry. So now we see some cynical dealing from the man who prides himself on his honesty. I suppose you’re going to swear you have no plans for the lovely heiress yourself? You’re no better than Rizon.”

I felt my face become warm. “As long as she’s a ward of the state her guardian is Conon. I don’t imagine him giving her to me any time soon. My father probably wouldn’t be too happy either, come to think of it.”

“Conon’s year will finish soon. The new Archon will most likely be happy to get her off his hands.”

“That’s as may be. The requirement is she not be forced to marry against her will.”

Xanthippus said, “You know we can’t guarantee that. The whole question lies with the Archon.” He paused. “I think I can undertake to ‘persuade’ Conon to take no action during his term. That leaves you a clear run with his successor, and the Gods know who that will be with this ridiculous lottery system. Your father is your own problem to solve. In fact, I’ve noticed recently that fathers are often a problem for their sons. And, son”—Xanthippus turned to Pericles—“consider, the estate has to go to someone. This young man is probably as good as anyone. At least he has some talent to serve the State.”

Pythax said, “Watch yourself, little boy. It’s a bad sign when Xanthippus thinks the city might need you.”

“I’m satisfied.”

Diotima returned silently to the torchlight circle and nodded silently. “What happens now?” she asked.

“We go home,” I said.

Pythax and I saw Diotima to her door as dawn exposed the disaster area that was the Agora. We skirted around smoldering bonfires made up of the building material that had been stacked waiting for use. Thick, half-burned beams poked out of the heaps, and the whole scene reminded me of the ruins on top of the Acropolis, except that this time we did it to ourselves. Building bricks and roof tiles lay scattered about the Agora and the surrounding streets; men had been using them as missiles. There were bodies, though not as many as I feared; perhaps a dozen sprawled in the Agora, and we passed three others. Many other men sat in the streets nursing wounds or sore heads; one man sat with his head in his hands, apparently unhurt but weeping.

Diotima insisted we collect Achilles and the other slaves from Ephialtes’ home, and we saw them all through Euterpe’s doorway. I gave Achilles firm instructions to lock all the doors, and I heard the bolt thud home the moment the door shut. Then we went our separate ways, Pythax to see what had become of his Scythians and I to return home.

I banged on our door until the sleepy house slave opened it to great astonishment. Neither Phaenarete nor Sophroniscus had slept, with the rioting in the streets and the expectation of seeing their elder son have his neck snapped in the morning.

My parents rejoiced but were intensely curious. I told them the Council had had a change of heart, which after all was true. But I had some difficulty explaining away the large amount of other men’s blood splattered across the front of my clothing. I put it down to being accosted by rioters on the way home and having to defend myself. Sophroniscus knew better, but chose to say nothing, except to ask if I was quite sure I shouldn’t be running for the border.

Sophroniscus brought out his best amphora of wine, but the celebration didn’t last long. I’m told that I lay back upon the dining couch and fell asleep immediately. I don’t even remember that.

I woke at midday still upon the couch. Phaenarete, normally the mildest of women, had threatened the slaves with a whipping if they woke me, so everyone was tiptoeing about.

Phaenarete gave me a mirror and asked me to take a look. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The first thing I did was pick up a bucket of water and pour it over myself. A slave scrubbed me raw. Phaenarete herself bandaged my numerous cuts and applied salve to the bruises, or, as she acidly put it, the bruises upon my bruises, for I hadn’t fully recovered from the beating, nor the fight to the death with Aristodicus, before going the same round with Rizon. When she was done, I looked into the bronze mirror once more. The face that stared back at me was Nicolaos, not counting the bandages and salve, but an older, harder Nicolaos. I knew I was looking at the man I would become in middle age. Partly it was because I had lost weight during the stress of the investigation and my imprisonment, to the point I had become gaunt, but more so it was the face of a Nicolaos more confident in his own abilities, and more aware of the perfidy of his fellow man.

Phaenarete tsk-tsked over my strained muscles and advised me to see a trainer at the gymnasium immediately. After all, a midwife can only do so much for a grown man.

I said, “So I shall, Mother, but first I have to see some men.”

Sophroniscus overheard. “You’re not still intending to pursue this ridiculous path, are you? Surely not after everything you’ve been through.”

“Yes, Father, I am. It might be tough, and you are right that it’s dangerous, but I’ve come through alive, and what’s more, I did it, Father. I did it!”

He looked at me curiously. “What are you saying? You told us you were released because the Council took pity upon you.”

“Uh, it’s a little bit more complex than that, Father. I can’t tell you everything, but I think you’ll find the city will quiet down now. The democrats and the conservatives are going to cooperate to return Athens to calm.”

“And you had something to do with this?”

“Yes, Father, I did.”

Sophroniscus threw his hands up in despair.

I found Xanthippus at home, in his courtyard. He looked the worse for wear for his adventure. He was wrapped up in a blanket with a glass of watered wine beside him. A slave was massaging his shoulders.

He looked at me sourly. “You have a habit of appearing where you are least wanted.”

“There is one little detail I need to clear up before I present the result of my commission to Pericles.”

“And that is?”

“The man who arranged the death of Ephialtes.”

“Archestratus. You said it yourself.”

“There are witnesses who say Aristodicus had separate meetings with two quite different men before the assassination, and yes, the description of one of these mystery men matches Archestratus, but the second man was older. It was the older man who brought coins to their meeting. Archestratus was paying Aristodicus via his son’s bank, so who was the older man and what was he doing? I can think of two possibilities.”

“Who are these witnesses?”

I ignored the question and said, “Let me tell you what I think happened. Archestratus approached a few powerful and influential men—the inner circle of the Council—with a letter from Themistocles, offering to supplant Ephialtes and restore the powers of the Areopagus if they would drop the treason charge and allow Themistocles to return home. The inner Council agreed. But we know Archestratus also imported a hired assassin—Aristodicus—at the same time. Now why send a killer if the return of Themistocles was in the bag? The only possible answer is that death was part of the deal the Council agreed on. It follows immediately that the plan to supplant Ephialtes consisted of removing him permanently.” I paused, wanting to see his reaction.

“Go on,” Xanthippus said, picking up his cup and drinking deeply.

“Someone among the inner circle of the Council was not entirely happy with the terms, but the deal was done, so that person went straight to the assassin and altered the terms without the knowledge of the other parties. Of course, this would have required a considerable bribe to the assassin, who, having partially betrayed his employer, would probably wish to make himself scarce. Syracuse is as far away from Magnesia as you can get and still be in a civilized city.

“Now Ephialtes was shot, so I ask myself, what term of the contract had this older man altered? Pericles was due to meet Ephialtes straightaway, and Pericles was the natural heir apparent to leadership of the democrats, as in fact he proved. Aristodicus need only have waited the space of a few heartbeats to have both Ephialtes and Pericles in range, and yet he didn’t.”

Xanthippus toyed with his wine, smiled wryly, looked up at me. “I may not see eye to eye on most things with my son, but you can assume I objected to spending his life for political gain.”

“It was a huge risk,” I said.

“It was my son.”

“And if I’d managed to take Aristodicus alive?”

“Pythax was there to make sure you did not.”

“I see.”

Xanthippus gripped his cup so tightly his knuckles went white, and said, “Themistocles has been playing us all like puppets, even from faraway Magnesia. We’re going to have to do something about that.”

We sat in silence for some time. It was a beautiful day in the warm sunshine.

“You said there were two possible explanations for this older man. What is your second?”

“It occurs to me that Themistocles, being the wily politician that he is, might have sent an independent observer, to ensure Archestratus acted according to his instructions. Such a man might have delivered a second payment directly to Aristodicus. That older man would be long gone, there’s no point in hunting for him now.” I paused for effect, then said, “I’m not sure which solution to present to Pericles, though of course, if the Areopagus made any more covert moves against the democracy that would make up my mind.”

Xanthippus nodded, toyed with his wine cup, considering for a long moment. “I think perhaps the Council might be persuaded to accept the transfer of power, if there were a few concessions made their way, now that power is going to Pericles, a man they—I—admire and trust. The democratic movement is safe.”

I smiled. “I think on the whole I like my second idea best. That’s what I’ll tell Pericles.”

“Pericles will not be willing to publicly implicate Archestratus.”

I nodded agreement. “There will be three levels of truth. As far as the people are concerned, Aristodicus was acting alone. For Pericles, it was Aristodicus and Archestratus. Only we will know that you, Xanthippus, could have stopped them if you’d wished. It’s not in anyone’s interest to talk.”

“What of your lady friend with the short, sharp knife? I have no wish to spend the rest of my days wary of every young woman when I walk down the street.”

“She avenged her father’s death last night. She will never know.”

I rose to take my leave.

Xanthippus said, “I am curious. Mere days ago, you swore you would declare the truth to the people no matter the cost.”

I sighed. The same thought tormented me. “Pericles once said this to me, and I thought he was a cynical opportunist; now that I too have held the future of Athens in my hand, I have much more sympathy for him. So I say to you now what he said to me then: it’s for the good of Athens.”

Xanthippus smiled. “We’ll make a politician of you yet, young man.”

I tracked down Pythax. He was sitting upon the empty plinth in the Agora, watching the mild, pleasant, well-behaved crowd going about their business. I knew the plinth would soon be filled. Callias had commissioned a new work from Sophroniscus: a statue of Ephialtes that he would donate to the public. Sophroniscus was pleased. It would be his first major work with his new apprentice, Socrates.

Pythax eyed me. “What now?” he asked suspiciously.

“Hello, Pythax. I didn’t thank you for saving my life, twice now. Three times if you count coming to open my cell door. Four times if you count telling the truth in court. If it weren’t for you, I’d be a dead man.”

Pythax grunted. “Like I said before, you remind me a bit of me, back when I was young and stupid, of course.”

“Well, I owe you a lot.”

We sat in silence for a moment.

“Xanthippus said something to me this morning. I asked him what he would have done if I’d taken Aristodicus alive and made him talk. Do you know what he said? ‘Pythax was there to make sure you did not.’ You said in court you’d been ordered to follow me to make sure I didn’t learn too much.”

I paused. “I’m glad you chose to shoot him.”

Pythax looked at me sharply. He drew in a breath. “Yeah, so am I.” He turned his face from me, and looked around the crowded Agora.

I hopped off the plinth. “Thanks again, Pythax.”

“Little boy?”

“Yes, Pythax?”

“I didn’t do it for the citizenship. I would have done what the government wanted anyway.”

“Yes, I know.”

I was escorting Diotima to her temple. The High Priestess had sent to say that the Polemarch had suddenly and most curiously removed his opposition to Diotima. What’s more, he had recommended she be invested as a full priestess as soon as possible; her ability to make sacrifice was particularly noteworthy, he said.

Pythax passed us, looking tougher and fitter than any man has a right to be after days of murderous mayhem. He was dressed in civilian clothes, no armor, and his hair and beard had been seen to by a barber who knew his business. He was carrying a gift.

“Good morning, little boy. Good morning, young lady.” He hesitated. “Is your mother in?”

We had seen Pythax face mortal combat with barely a lifted eyebrow. Here he stood before us shaking with fear.

Diotima said, “She’s in. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

“A man needs a family and a home to protect. Otherwise he’s just a lonely drifter without a village, or a city. Besides, what a woman! But…do you think she’d have me?”

“You’ll have to ask her. I do wish you luck.”

He squared his shoulders and stepped forward.

The door was opened by Euterpe. “Thanks be to the Gods, a real man at last!” She dragged him inside and the door slammed behind them.

Diotima shuddered. “Do you suppose I’ll have to call him Father?”

We walked in silence, taking the long way around to the temple across the Illisos. The Agora was quiet, not a rioter or malcontent to be seen. Diotima said, “Oh, look here, Nicolaos! This is where I hit you in the face with a fish.”

“Yes, and over there is where you knocked over enough olive oil to grease a small army. We’d better not tell the stallholders who you are.”

We laughed. The walk up the Panathenaic Way was pleasant. We stopped at the place where we had fought. It had been cleaned up by the Scythians so you’d never know men had died there.

As we looked around, Diotima asked, “Nicolaos, who do you think murdered Stratonike and those poor nurses?”

“Rizon,” I said confidently.

She nodded. “I think you’re right. He’s one of the few who could have found the buckets of seawater in the dark, and he didn’t want to live with her any more than I did. But, why didn’t you suspect me?”

“I did for a few moments.”

“You did?”

“Yes, but then I realized you would never have murdered the nurses too. Besides, you would have done it much more neatly. All you had to do was offer to relieve the nurses for an afternoon and then finish her in any number of ways. No one would have been in the least surprised if Stratonike had slit her own wrists, for example. No, those killings were vulgar. That describes Rizon, but never you, my dear.”

Diotima hesitated, then turned to face me. “I haven’t forgotten, Nicolaos, what we said when you were in the cell. But…”

“But that was when you thought we’d lost everything, before you had what you wanted.”

“Try to understand, could I leave all this?” She cast her arm around Athens, laid out before us and glorious under Apollo’s rays.

“I understand, Diotima.”

“And anyway, you have your reward from Pericles,” she said. Diotima was nothing if not practical.

I didn’t say a word.

“Nicolaos, you do have your reward from Pericles, don’t you? The house and the income?”

“Pericles is arguing about it. He says that Archestratus revealed himself before I denounced him, so it doesn’t count.”

“Why, that little bastard! I’ll go to him and—”

“It’s all right, Diotima, someone’s going to put pressure on him to pay his just debts.”

“Who?” Diotima demanded.

“His father, Xanthippus.”

“But Xanthippus hates you!”

“Let’s say he’s learned to respect my negotiation skills.”

“That doesn’t mean Pericles will pay you.”

A man approached us. It was Archestratus, son of Archestratus, backed by two tough-looking men. My hand went immediately to the dagger concealed beneath my chitoniskos. Diotima demurely placed her hands before her like a modest maiden, but I knew she had one clasped over her priestess pouch, in which lay the sacrificial knife she had used to cut the throat of this man’s father.

“Ah, I find you at last, Nicolaos, son of Sophroniscus. We are mortal enemies, you and I.”

“Why?” I asked.

“You killed my father.”

I did not look to Diotima. “He died fighting alongside Xanthippus and Pericles.”

“That is the story being put out for the ignorant people. You and I know better. Know, Nicolaos, that I will do everything in my considerable power to make your life a living misery until I send you down to Hades.”

He nodded politely to Diotima and went on his way.

Diotima said, “That reminds me, Nicolaos. You don’t need to worry about Pericles paying you.” She reached into her pouch and pulled out a short piece of board.

“Is that…?”

“I found it around the neck of Archestratus after I cut his throat. If we take along witnesses so they can’t possibly argue, Antisthenes and Archestratus will have no choice but to pay us out.”

I pulled out my half of the banking token and put it against hers. They fitted together perfectly.