We joined a steady stream of people leaving Delphi, mostly farmers in carts who were delivering produce to Kirrha. Up ahead, Milo’s black horse galloped at quite a pace and we followed him down the mountain to the plain.
Soon, Milo came to a dust-ridden altar and turned off the main road. We saw him disappear down a dirt track between two ancient fig trees. Thrax pulled on the reins to slow Rhea down.
‘Whoa, girl.’
We waited for a while, then turned on to the dirt track ourselves. It was lined with fig trees, their branches meeting overhead to form a tunnel. They were so low, we had to bend to avoid them. After the noise and bustle of the main road, it was strangely silent in the tunnel. It was strangely silent, like being in a graveyard.
The tunnel gave out on to abandoned farmland. Before us lay the remains of a farmhouse, the orchard around it choked with tall weeds and bushes. The only building standing was a disused barn with dirty walls. We were looking at its back. There were no doors or windows but loud voices echoed from its collapsed roof.
‘Can you hear that?’ whispered Thrax as he tied Rhea out of sight behind an overgrown pomegranate tree. ‘Come on, let’s get closer.’
He crouched down in the tall weeds and I crawled after him towards the barn. Coming round the corner we could see more tumbledown buildings. One of them had an altar outside the remains of a door. A headless statue of a god stood on it. Three horses were tied to a post nearby, nibbling on the grass. One of them was Milo’s.
The voices in the barn grew louder and angrier.
‘I said, is this all you have?’
A trembling high-pitched voice answered. ‘It’s all I could get at short notice.’
I recognised that voice at once. It was Milo.
‘We followed you all the way from New Sybaris for a handful of coins? There’s not enough here to keep my horse in hay for a day.’
‘I don’t know why you had to follow me here,’ argued Milo. ‘I told you I’d pay in full when I got back home.’
‘We fancied a trip to Kirrha,’ growled another voice. ‘Though it’s turned out to be an even dirtier dung heap than New Sybaris. If you don’t give us something to impress the boss soon, we might have to come and talk to your papa in Delphi.
‘Please,’ said Milo. ‘Give me some more time. I beg you.’
‘People like you always want more time,’ growled the first voice. ‘But you just keep on gambling and losing more money. The boss is running out of patience.’
‘Yes,’ cut in someone else, his voice sharp with menace. ‘And the interest on your debt is growing by the day. You only brought something worth more than a few obols once.’
‘That should have paid off all my debts to you. It’s a priceless thing,’ groaned Milo. ‘You’re cheating.’
His words were cut short and he cried out. Someone must have punched him in the stomach. ‘Remember, rich boy,’ we’re always on your trail. There’s no escaping us.’
There was a burst of cruel laughter, then the door creaked open and the rough men came out. One of them kicked the headless god off its altar. Then they got in their saddles and galloped right past us, their horses kicking up dust in our faces.
Milo staggered out just as I wiped my eyes clean. The poor man was clutching his stomach. He looked absolutely terrified.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The Boy in the Himation
We came home to find Master Ariston feeling much better. Zoe had stopped by and mixed him a strong potion of honey and figs that cleared his stomach at once. He was so happy he did not even ask where we’d been all day.
‘She left sausages for you two,’ he said, scratching away at his tablet. ‘Please eat them outside and keep your voices low. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep, Nico. We have a lot of work ahead of us tomorrow.’
We stoked the fire in the cracked hydria and climbed up to our tree house to eat. I knew Thrax was thinking hard because he would hardly say a word. I wasn’t in the mood for talking either. The sight of poor Milo staggering out of that barn had left me shaken.
The moon came out and bats flitted above our tree. The beehives were silent. High on the mountain I heard the distant howling of a wolf. The lonely sound made me think of my parents in Kos. I must go and see them soon. Perhaps I could take them a small omphalos from Delphi. My mother especially would like that.
Thrax sat up in his cot without warning. ‘Eureka! I have figured it out, Nico. The whole thing.’
I sat up too, making my branch of the olive tree sway dangerously. ‘Have you? You know who kidnapped Selene and why? It’s not Milo, is it?’
‘No,’ said Thrax. ‘You were right. It’s not Milo. It’s someone else. And he had an accomplice.’
‘Do you mean there are two kidnappers?’
‘Yes! That’s why I found it so difficult to work out what happened. I was expecting there to be only one.’
‘Who are they?’
‘I have a few details to clear up first,’ said Thrax. ‘And then I’ll tell you.’
‘That’s not fair...’ I began to argue.
But Thrax cut me short. ‘Nico, we need to get out of this tree. We’re in danger!’
‘Danger?’ I said, clambering down the tree after him. ‘From whom? The kidnappers? They’re coming here?’
Thrax did not reply but pointed to the cracked hydria. Its flames threw light on the ground around it and I noticed footprints in the dust.
‘Someone was snooping around the orchard while we were away,’ said Thrax.
‘Master Ariston could have made those footprints,’ I said.
‘No, his feet are bigger than this. Besides, I’ve seen these footprints before.’
‘Where?’
‘On the mountain pass coming down from the Corcyian cave the day we were attacked. One of those city boys has been here, and I think he’ll return soon. Tonight!’
I looked around in alarm, half expecting a hooded figure to jump out from the dark. ‘What do we do now?’
‘We outwit him, Nico,’ said Thrax. He ran to the barn and returned with an enormous bundle of straw. He divided it in two and we carried it up into the tree. Following Thrax’s lead, I tucked my half into my cot, smoothing down the himation around it to make it look like a sleeping body.
Next, we fetched a full goatskin and hid it behind a nearby bush. Then we went indoors and Thrax shook Master Ariston awake.
‘What’s happening?’ Master Ariston gasped, his bleary eyes looking from Thrax to me.
‘We need your help, master,’ said Thrax. ‘Will you come to the window?’
‘To the window? Now?’
‘Yes, our lives might be in danger.’
‘Danger?’ mumbled Master Ariston. The word didn’t seem to have much effect on him but he let Thrax lead him to the window, which looked out on the orchard.
‘What am I meant to be looking at?’
‘We’re expecting an uninvited guest,’ said Thrax, pulling up a stool for Master Ariston to sit on. ‘He’ll be up to no good. We need you as a witness, master. Sit here.’
‘A witness,’ mumbled Master Ariston, looking even more confused.
‘That’s right,’ said Thrax. ‘An upstanding member of the community that a magistrate like your friend Glykon would believe.’
Master Ariston gawped. ‘I don’t know what game you’re playing, my boy, but if it’s an upstanding member of the community you need...’ His head sagged on to his chest before he could finish the sentence. He started snoring.
‘Let him snooze,’ said Thrax. ‘I’m going out to the orchard. Wake him up when you see the intruder.’
I didn’t have to wait long before a dark shadow appeared in the orchard, peering around. For a moment it looked directly at the open window, sending me stumbling back into the shadows. I watched breathless as the intruder approached the olive tree, its black himation shimmering like the dark pools in the Corcyian cave.
I shook Master Ariston awake.
Under the tree, the mysterious figure pulled a flask from the folds of its himation. I smelt the aroma of olive oil as it sprinkled the contents around the roots. The intruder flung the empty flask away, then kicked over the smouldering hydria, scattering the glowing embers. The dry weeds under the tree caught fire at once.
It took only moments for the tree itself to burst into flames, lighting up the orchard with a horrific glow.
‘Master,’ I called helplessly.
But Mister Ariston had already leapt off the stool, all traces of sleepiness gone. He let out a blood-curdling yell. ‘Someone, grab that man. He is an arsonist.’
I saw Thrax leap out from his hiding place and whip the intruder’s himation off his head. The arsonist’s face was revealed.
It was Belos!
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
A Deal with Belos
‘Good morning,’ said Thrax cheerfully. ‘How are you feeling today, Belos?’
After Thrax unmasked the baker’s apprentice, the boy had fled from the orchard. But it had been easy to track him down to the bakery. It seemed Belos was well known in Delphi. All we had to do was ask for him at the agora, which was full of slaves waiting to buy food for their masters’ breakfast.
He looked at us defiantly from behind a wooden table, his arms buried up to the elbows in dough. ‘What do you want?’
‘We want to make a deal.’
Belos snorted in derision, brown flour coming off his face in a cloud. ‘What kind of deal?’
‘We’ll pretend you never set fire to our house—’
‘It’s not your house,’ said Belos. ‘You’re only renting.’
‘Destroying people’s property is still a crime, whoever is living in it. Not to mention endangering people’s lives. I would say that’s attempted murder. What were you trying to do, Belos? Scare us into ending our investigation? Yesterday was your second attempt, wasn’t it? The first was on the mountain path, coming down from the Corcyian cave.
‘I have to say you’re very clever. You started tailing us after our little fight outside the cheesemaker’s, looking for a way to get your promised revenge. And after Selene’s disappearance you discovered we were looking for her. You learned we were friendly with Zoe, her sister. You saw us talking to Tros at the agora. How did you find out he’d given us information about Mother Kessandra? Did you ask nicely or did you threaten him with violence?’
‘As a matter of fact, I just eavesdropped on your conversation,’ sneered Belos. ‘Call yourself clever. I could hear every word you said to the blind man from a market stall nearby. Anyway, you have no proof it was me who attacked you, either on the mountain or in the orchard.’
‘Our master was watching at the window. If we reported the crime to Glykon the magistrate, he might not believe a lowly slave or a scribe, but Master Ariston is a respected elder. His words carry weight.’
Belos scoffed, his rough hands still kneading the dough. ‘Your master was fast asleep. I could hear him snoring.’
‘Master Ariston woke up in time to see you,’ said Thrax. ‘He not only saw you setting fire to the olive tree, he saw me do something else too.’
Belos’s eyes flickered. ‘What?’
Thrax reached under his belt and pulled out something, which he held in his closed fist. ‘When I leaped on you,’ he said to Belos, ‘I didn’t just yank the himation down from your head. I also snatched this from your chiton.’ He opened his hand. In it was a golden fibula shaped like a man riding a turtle.
‘I’d say this is proof that you were the arsonist in the orchard. All I need to do is find just one person who is willing to admit they have seen you wearing this. One of your money-hungry friends, perhaps.’
Belos jerked his hands out of the dough. ‘Give that back.’
‘It’s a very expensive thing for a baker’s apprentice to have,’ said Thrax, closing his hand around the fibula. ‘And quite a rare design too. I caught a flash of it inside your himation during our scrap in the cheesemaker’s yard and thought how odd it was that someone should hide such a beautiful fibula instead of showing it off. I’d say it was made in Aegina, the island of the turtles. Same as the coins that fell out of your money bag. They had turtles on them too. The priest Abantes gave you the coins and the fibula, didn’t he? Or perhaps you stole them from him.’
‘Why would Abantes give me money and presents?’ growled Belos, chewing on his lower lip in frustration. ‘I’ve never spoken to the priest. I don’t even know him.’
‘Oh, but you do,’ said Thrax. ‘Although you try to keep your connection a secret. Abantes is your father.’
Belos’s face went bright red at the revelation. ‘Abantes? My father? Where’s the proof of that, slave?’
‘I am looking at it right now,’ said Thrax. ‘You chew your lower lip when you are lying, just like your father. I believe Abantes met your mother when he visited Delphi fourteen years ago and you were the result. Only he couldn’t tell anyone he had a son. He was married at the time and being unfaithful to your wife is a crime. It’s only when his wife died that he could come back to Delphi, to find you.’
‘You have no proof,’ spat Belos again but this time his words did not sound so convincing.
‘We have proof that you set fire to our olive tree. That alone is enough to land you in trouble with the law. I wonder what the punishment for arson is. I’d say exile at the very least. Perhaps they might throw you off a cliff like they did with Aesop the storyteller a long time ago. I believe he was accused of stealing a silver cup from the temple.’
Belos’s face turned a bright red. ‘So what’s the deal?’
‘Take us to Selene,’ said Thrax. ‘I think you and Abantes have hidden her up the mountain, while you wait for bandits to take her away and sell her into slavery.’
‘Ha,’ cried Belos, ‘as if I could make that gorgon go anywhere with me.’
‘Oh, but you lured her up there. You bribed one of your unscrupulous friends to go to her with a false message. He told her that Mother Kessandra wanted to speak to her urgently in the cave of shadows. Master Ariston saw her following your minion the night she disappeared. And when he delivered her to you, you and your father dragged her off to a secret hiding place. Only the bandits haven’t come for her yet, have they? There was a huge rockfall in the mountain pass, which will take months to clear. Bet you and your father didn’t know about that.’
Belos opened and shut his mouth like a fish and his puffy cheeks quivered. He was trying to speak but no words came out.
‘Kidnapping, arson, your list of crimes keeps on growing,’ said Thrax. ‘Do we have a deal? You take us to Selene, and we’ll promise not to go to the magistrate.’
Belos nodded angrily. ‘All right. But I want my fibula back.’
‘All in good time,’ said Thrax, returning the golden pin to the folds of his own chiton. ‘We should leave now, before the master baker arrives and asks where his apprentice is going.’
I was full of admiration for Thrax as we hurried along the streets of Delphi. Only a person with his intelligence and logical thinking could recognise random clues and put them together as he had. But there was one question that still puzzled me. Why on earth should Abantes and Belos want to kidnap Selene?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Forgotten City
We left Delphi as the rising sun was starting to melt away the morning mist, taking the mountain pass that led up to the Corcyian cave. The ground was still sodden and slippery from the recent rains, and I regretted not wearing my boots, which had firmer soles than my sandals.
Sadly, there was no time to go back home and fetch them. Master Ariston would be wide awake by now and wondering where Thrax and I had gone. I sent a quick prayer to Apollo and the muses that he would not be too angry with us when we returned.
We passed a few goatherds who gave Thrax and me a cheery nod. Belos had pulled his himation up around his face and the goatherds did not recognise him. He wa
lked in sullen silence, lost in his own thoughts.
Further up the mountain, the morning mist still drifted among the windblown trees and thorny bushes. We stopped to drink from the spring, then entered the wood where we’d been attacked two days earlier.
As we passed the cave and continued up the mountain, I could feel a difference in the air. Below, the world was tamed, the land turned to fields, orchards and dwellings. It was the world of our much-loved gods, Apollo and Pan and Dionysus. The world of our Hellenic culture. Up here, the world felt wild and untamed. A place where the powerful beings that had been there before Zeus and the Olympians still ruled. Everything seemed ancient. The rocks were worn smooth by the wind or covered in faded yellow lichen. The stunted trees reached out with gnarled, knotted branches.
The path grew stonier and narrower, snaking round boulders and prickly bushes. The only signs of life were the vultures soaring overhead and small clusters of spring flowers growing out of cracks in the rocks.
I had never before walked so far without stopping. My knees started to hurt and my feet swelled like sponges dipped in water. The straps on my sandals cut into my ankles.
‘Take them off,’ said Thrax, who was already barefoot. ‘Your feet will thank you for it.’
I did as he said, putting the sandals in my bag. The thin mountain air was making me light-headed and I shivered despite the blinding sunshine.
The path followed the curve round the mountain away from Delphi. Now all I could see below was a wild valley full of trees and the odd wisp of smoke rising from a farmhouse kitchen.
We came to a narrow tunnel. Belos urged us on with a grunt. We followed him and came out on to a small plateau. Before us lay the ruins of what looked like an ancient wall, circling the remains of long-fallen buildings. Thrax and I stared wide-eyed in amazement.
We had stumbled on a small long-lost city.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Legend and Reality
Belos pulled back his himation. ‘Ha,’ he said, enjoying the look in our eyes. ‘Your master thinks he is so important, coming to ask Apollo’s advice, showing off his wealth. But there were people on this mountain a long time before your precious oracle was even built. My mother’s ancestors came to live here at the time of the Great Flood.’
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