The Ionia Sanction (12 page)

“Changed how?”

“I don’t know. Father became distracted. He always used to talk to me, telling me things, about politics, about how he ruled. It was like he meant to train me, though I’m only a girl. But then he stopped. He spent all his time working. Well, he worked all the time anyway, but he worked even harder, spent so much time in his office and only came out to rule the city. I never saw him and he seemed a bit different. At the time I thought the way he acted was because of Mother dying, but looking back on it later I wondered if Barzanes had something to do with it.”

“In what way?”

“My father has commanded armies and faced powerful enemies and always he’s won. But I think Father is scared of Barzanes.”

*   *   *

I lay in bed that night, pondering. I tried to concentrate on my mission, but my thoughts kept reverting to Diotima. Could I pass through Ephesus without seeing her? Did I want to? No, it was unthinkable. But what would I say to her?

“Yaahh!”
A piercing scream ripped through the air and tore me from sleep. I sat bolt upright. A girl’s voice. Who?

“Father, no! Help me!”

Asia. In my addled state I’d forgotten Asia. She tossed and turned in the straw on the other side of the room, as if someone attacked her.

I shook her and said, “It’s all right. You’re safe.” My words hadn’t the slightest effect.

She continued to buck and cry. “No! Father!”

Asia was still asleep, yet she talked. Had Themistocles been beating her? I held her tight so she wouldn’t hurt herself and shouted over and over, “Wake up, Asia. You’re safe. Wake up!”

“What? Where am I? Who are—” She threw her arms about me and held on tight.

“You were having a nightmare.”

“Yes.” She shivered despite the warm night.

I brought her some water from the hydria in the corner. Asia drank it, staring at the floor, and the shivering stopped.

“All right. Try and get some sleep,” I said as gently as I could. I rose to go.

“No, wait…”

“Yes?”

“Let me … let me sleep with you … please?”

“No.”

“At home … I always slept with my sister Nicomache. I’m not used to a bed on my own. Please, master?”

It was bad enough I had her in the same room, though that was obviously necessary for her own safety, but any father would kill me for this.

A tear trickled down her face.

I sighed. “You’ll have to squeeze in the side.”

She dived into my bed before I’d finished the sentence.

I walked over to find there was barely any room for me.

“Move over.”

She wriggled to the far edge and I pushed my way in.

“But I warn you, if I can’t sleep, out you go.”

I was in bed with the wrong woman.

I lay back and tried to pretend there wasn’t a girl sleeping below my armpit. I could feel her move against me as she made herself comfortable.

Asia was of marriageable age, and she was well developed for it too. I had the natural reaction any man would with a young woman wriggling beside him. I reminded myself of the words I’d used to Socrates: she was a virgin when I found her, she’d better still be a virgin when I returned her to Themistocles. At last she settled down and I could close my eyes and go back to sleep.

I rolled over to put my back to her and thought of Diotima.

Sex was a problem. Of course, a woman couldn’t afford to lose her virginity if she expected a good marriage, I understood that. Fathers had been known to kill men for deflowering their daughters, and afterward the courts approved the killing. Jurors are men with daughters too.

It made sense Diotima had refused to have sex. Perfectly normal. Very frustrating.

“Master?”

I opened my eyes. “What is it, Asia?”

“Why did you buy me?”

“I’m returning you to your father.”

“Why?” she persisted.

To find out why she had arrived in Athens with a murderer. To uncover a secret which killed a man. To spy on her father.

I said, “It’s partly a goodwill gesture. Your father is still well respected by many in Athens, and you are, technically, a citizen of Athens. The Athenians would not allow one of their own to be a slave without reason; there’s a law against it. The best thing to do is return you.”

“Are you going to invite Father back to Athens?”

“No.”

“He wants to go home, more than anything. I know he does.”

“That’s not for me to decide. The Ecclesia and the courts are in charge.”

“Father will reward you for bringing me back.”

“That’s nice.”

“What reward will you ask for?”

My job back with Pericles? A position among the leaders of Athens? My marriage? Themistocles had nothing I wanted.

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“You should. Father’s sure to ask. I’m his favorite daughter.”

“Fine, I’ll think about it in the morning.” I closed my eyes.

“Master?”

I opened my eyes. “What is it now?” I droned.

“When are we leaving for Magnesia?”

“I have some things to do here first. I’ll know more
in the morning.
”

“Master, will you—”

“Asia!”

“Yes, master?”

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Yes, master.”

*   *   *

I woke next morning to find Asia had somehow migrated to the other end of the bed and was curled up, peaceful and asleep against my legs. I didn’t want to wake her so I lay thinking.

Here I was, outside Athens for the first time in my life, and not only in a new city, but inside the Persian Empire. Granted, Ephesus was as close to being independent as you could get and still make obeisance to the Great King, but in no free Hellene city could I come face-to-face with Persian soldiers, like I had the day before.

Anything was possible, even the success of my mission, even the saving of my career, even a new beginning. Perhaps a new beginning to everything. I had to find Diotima and talk to her. Things had gone wrong between us, horribly wrong. Today was the day I would put them right.

I meant to mention this to Asia that morning, as we sat at the bench eating our breakfast of stale bread soaked in a little wine, but I didn’t because although I knew in a general way what I wanted to say when I found Diotima, I hadn’t quite worked out the precise words. I rehearsed the conversation over and over in my mind, but it never sounded as good as I expected. I gave myself a little more time by telling Asia we would spend the morning investigating.

She shrugged and said, “I thought you wanted to find this woman?”

“We will, later this afternoon for sure.”

We walked down the road to find Pollion, the brother-in-law of Thorion, whom I guessed would be at the commercial agora. We were coming down Marble Road when walking uphill I saw the one and only person I expected to recognize in Ephesus: the long, dark, curly hair, the confident walk, the pretty face with the thin nose and the full lips, and the pleasing way her dress stretched across her breasts. Diotima was about to turn the bend in the road; any moment now she would see me standing in the road.

Well, that was all right, wasn’t it? After all, I’d resolved to talk to Diotima some time today. All I needed was a prepared speech. Then I looked down at Asia who stood beside me, and I thought back to the words of Socrates. “I wouldn’t want to be in your place when Diotima sees her!”

Perhaps this wasn’t the right time to talk to Diotima.

Yes, that’s what I’d do. I would let Diotima pass by, and approach her when I didn’t have Asia with me, when I’d decided what to say. But where to go?

Behind us lay the commercial agora, with nowhere to hide. Other than that there was only the wide open theater. On the lower side of the road was what looked like a large private residence. On the uphill side, a low building stood, into which I had seen others pass; obviously a public building of some sort.

“Quick, come this way.”

I grabbed Asia by her left arm and dragged her up the steps.

Asia protested. “What are you doing?”

“Shut up and do as I say.”

We passed through the open gates into a small courtyard, open to the street, in the middle of which sat a water well. The stonework and the flowering vines twined around it to provide fragrant aroma were a thing of beauty, but I didn’t stop to admire. Diotima would see us as she passed, and I hadn’t yet decided what I’d say to her. A door exited the courtyard to our right. I didn’t hesitate. I slammed it shut the moment I’d pulled Asia inside.

I stood there, panting from the sudden fright. There was a shutter in the door. I opened it and peered out.

“If you like this girl so much, why are we hiding from her?” Asia asked loudly.

“Shh!”

“I’m sorry. We don’t permit clients to bring their own women.” It was a rich, vibrant, sultry voice.

I whirled about to find a lady standing behind us. She was dressed in … not very much. Her face was painted and her red hair flowed in ringlets down to her bosom, which was exposed.

We had come to a brothel.

“My apologies, er, lady. I only want to stay for a few moments.”

“That’s what they all say, dear, but they pay all the same.”

“No, you don’t understand. I—”

“He’s hiding from his girlfriend,” said Asia.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” I said quickly.

But the lady had only one interest. “You haven’t come for our services?”

“No, I said it was an accident.”

“Well, you can’t stay here. Out.”

“But—”

“I don’t care. Heracles!”

Heracles was well-named. He was a hulking great man in Persian dress. He was at least a hand’s width taller than me and wide, so wide he almost waddled. There was almost no hair on him, no sign of a beard. His facial skin was as smooth as a woman’s. I suspected I’d met a eunuch for the first time, but I was not tempted to lift his tunic and see.

“You leave now, master.” He spoke Greek heavily accented with Persian. The words were polite but the tone was unmistakable. It left no doubt I was leaving now.

To assist me in my understanding, Heracles picked me up by the neck of my chiton, and carried me, using one hand, through the doorway and into the courtyard. Asia walked alongside. I dangled like a kitten in the mouth of its mother. There he dropped me.

“Try to keep him out of trouble, dearie,” the brothel keeper called to Asia from the doorway.

“I’ll do my best,” Asia promised.

The door slammed behind us.

We stood in the courtyard with the well. The paved path descended on a gentle slope back to Marble Road. Diotima was out there, somewhere on the street, probably about to pass by at any moment. To give her time to walk past, I said to Asia, “Why don’t we drink from this well?”

“You mean that? Oh, master! But—”

“Don’t argue, just drink, and take your time about it.”

I pulled up the bucket and used the tureen tied to the well wall to proffer a drink to Asia, then took a large drink for myself. The water was cool, even more than I expected, and tasted pure and did a great deal to calm me down. I dropped the tureen. Heracles stood at the entrance to the brothel. I congratulated myself I had delayed long enough to be sure Diotima would be gone.

She stood there, with her back to us, staring at the house opposite the brothel. I squealed in surprise and she whirled about.

“Nicolaos!” Diotima cried in delight, a broad smile appearing. “You’ve come to see me. Have you just arrived? Listen, I have a case to solve. A missing man and, oh, I’m so
pleased
to see—”

She stopped, realizing where she stood, where I stood. She’d been living in Ephesus long enough to know all the businesses on the main street. I watched her eyes as they followed my path back to the building I had exited. The scantily clad lady who had ordered me thrown out walked into the courtyard to collect water. She gave me a friendly wave and retreated. Diotima’s smile vanished. She looked down, to see pretty little Asia holding my hand and looking up with wide, innocent eyes.

“Hello Diotima,” Asia said. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

8

But curb thou the high spirit in thy breast, for gentle ways are best, and keep aloof from sharp contentions.

“You vile, disgusting goat, you make me sick!”

Diotima delivered a well-chosen curse on behalf of her deity, the Goddess Artemis, one which involved certain parts of my anatomy catching boils and falling off. Men who walked down the street smirked as they passed. This probably wasn’t the first time they’d heard a woman curse a man outside this particular address. She finished with, “I suppose you were hiding in that brothel, waiting to jump out at me.”

“No. Well, I
was
hiding, but—”

“I thought as much. You traveled all the way to Ephesus to make me miserable. Desperate to flaunt your new woman in my face, were you?”

“Asia? She’s a slave.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?”

Asia had been looking from one to the other of us as we argued. “Can I make a suggestion?”

“No,” Diotima and I said in unison.

Diotima said, “I suppose you picked her up in some brothel?”

“No, but I saved her from one.”

“Oh, sure. I’ve heard that before!”

“I’m on a case, Diotima. There’s been a murder. She’s my clue.”

“That means if I weren’t with him, he’d be clueless,” Asia said.

Diotima ignored Asia and said to me, “She reminds me of Socrates.”

“You mean the way she interrupts with irritating comments?”

“Yes.”

“At last, something we can agree on. She’s not a witness—she didn’t see a thing—but her presence must mean something, like leaving your cloak at the scene of the crime, only a cloak that talks too much.”

“You don’t seriously expect me to believe you came here for a murder?”

I told her of the death of Thorion in as few words as possible. “No one you know. The victim was our proxenos for Ephesus. Now I’m looking for his equivalent on this side of the sea, the proxenos for Athens here. His name is Brion.”

“You won’t find Brion,” she said with such utter certainty it made me angry.