Shadow of the Centaurs

by Saviour Pirotta

  Thrax rattled the coins in the lekanis. ‘Let us in, sir, please. We’ll be very careful not to let the owner see us begging. And we’ll share our earnings with you.’

  The promise of some extra money seemed to work wonders on the doorman. ‘All right, come in. I suppose there’s no harm in asking the men for a few chalkoi. It’s nearly the Anthesteria and they might be feeling generous. But you can only stay for a short while. And don’t make nuisances of yourselves or I’ll chase you out.’

  He opened the door a little wider and we slipped past him into an airless corridor, dimly lit with lamps hanging from the ceiling. It opened out on to a large room where wine was being served from a row of kraters by the wall. This was a kapeleion, one of Athens’ infamous taverns. I was surprised that a nice man like Hilarion would even dream of coming to a place like this – unless, of course, Thrax was right and he was meeting up with a criminal. We couldn’t see him in the wine room, so we stepped through a second doorway into a courtyard. Here a small group of men stood rapt in a tight circle. I heard the rattle of sharpened claws on stone and the squawk of angry birds. A cockfight was in progress. Two ruffled roosters were circling each other. Behind them stood a table with a large purse on it, the prize for the owner of the winning bird. I shuddered even to look at it. Although I relish meat after a sacrifice or at a symposium, I can’t abide cruelty to animals.

  ‘Can you see Hilarion?’ I asked Thrax.

  ‘He’s not here either,’ he answered, looking round the circle.

  We spotted yet another doorway which had a flimsy curtain across it. Thrax pushed it aside and we entered a crowded room where men sat hunched over small tables. A woman with heavy make-up and dark hair piled high on her head was playing a lyre and singing in a rather toneless voice. No one paid her any attention. All the men in the room were concentrating on long rows of black and white pebbles in front of them. They were playing petteia, perhaps the most popular game in the Hellenic world.

  Thrax pulled me towards an empty table where someone had left a half-finished game. ‘Let’s pretend we’re playing.’ We sat down and I rearranged the pebbles, lining the white ones in front of Thrax and the black ones on my side of the board.

  A moment later, Hilarion came in, hastily tightening the cord around his chiton. He’d obviously been to the rest room. We kept our heads low as the old man looked around and chose a table on the other side of the room. A man in a filthy apron brought him a cup of wine from behind a counter.

  Hilarion lined up the pebbles on the board. After a while another customer came in. He too looked around, then joined Hilarion at the table. He was a short man, with a light brown beard and bushy eyebrows. Not a single word passed between the two men after an initial ‘khaire’. The two of them merely played, moving the pebbles across the board.

  The man behind the counter brought a second cup of wine for the newcomer, who passed him some coins without looking up. The game continued.

  In the courtyard, a loud roar announced the end of the cockfight. There was cheering, followed by the sounds of punching. The cockfight had mutated into a fist fight. No one in our room seemed in the least bit alarmed. Then the curtain at the door was pushed aside again and two elderly men stepped into the room. One of them was Socrates.

  My heart almost jumped into my mouth. ‘Don’t panic,’ hissed Thrax. ‘We’re leaving in a moment. And Socrates won’t even recognise us in these filthy wigs. Be ready to run when I tell you.’

  Thrax crept up to Hilarion’s table and suddenly started shaking the lekanis in the second man’s face. ‘A chalkoi for a hungry girl, sir. Pity a poor starving girl with no family.’

  The man with the light brown beard looked up from his game with fury in his eyes. He was obviously not pleased Thrax had interrupted his game.

  ‘Oi, you,’ called the man behind the wine counter. ‘No begging in here, and no children. Get out.’

  ‘Run,’ hissed Thrax, and I sprinted after him out of the room and through the courtyard. Thrax tossed the coins from the lekanis at the doorman as we burst through the front door.

  ‘I think we were wasting our time in there,’ I said as we hurried through the crowds back home. ‘Hilarion was just playing a round of petteia.’

  ‘On the contrary,’ said Thrax. ‘He managed to pass a message to his friend the flower-picker without saying a word except ‘khaire’. A very clever set-up indeed.’

  I mopped the sweat from my brow. ‘Did you say the man Hilarion met is a flower-picker?’ I said, whipping off my wig. ‘I thought he was meeting the thief.’

  ‘That was what I originally believed,’ replied Thrax. ‘But when I looked at the petteia board I saw a carefully folded note,’ said Thrax. ‘It was tied to one of the pebbles. Hilarion was pushing it across the board when I approached the table.’

  ‘You mean Hilarion can write?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Thrax. ‘He must have taught himself like me. I saw him writing on an old tablet when I visited Master Zeno.’

  ‘But how do you know the man he met is a flower-picker and not the thief? That the note wasn’t meant for him?’

  ‘I don’t think the man can read,’ replied Thrax. ‘And his hands were deeply stained with pollen, which told me he is a flower-picker. But they aren’t the hands that left the print in the turtle sarcophagus. They’re too small. So the flower-picker definitely isn’t the thief. He’s just a go-between, for the man Hilarion was trying to warn. For some reason he daren’t show his face in Athens. He is still eluding us but, believe me, I will find him.’

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Roasted Octopus and Fish Sauce

  As we trudged home, Thrax narrowed his eyes and looked down at the ground. It was a gesture I had grown used to over the course of our investigations. I knew it meant he was sorting out clues in his head and didn’t want any interruptions.

  As we passed the agora, I smelled the delicious aroma of fried fish.

  ‘Thrax,’ I said, ‘I don’t want to intrude on your thoughts but I’m hungry. Would you like a snack too?’

  He shook his head, still not saying a word, so I bought myself an enormous slice of roasted octopus in flatbread. It was dripping with fish sauce and quite delicious.

  Also quite lethal, as I was soon to find out. I woke up in the middle of the night squirming with pain.

  ‘I feel like the monster Charybdis herself is chewing away at my stomach,’ I groaned when Thrax came over to see what the matter was. Sweat was running down my face and into my eyes. My skin felt clammy and despite my warm himation I shivered. ‘It must have been the octopus. It was off but I couldn’t tell because of the fish sauce. I’m never going to touch octopus again. Ever!’

  Thrax fetched a wet rag and mopped my brow. The water felt cool on my forehead and the pain lessened a fraction.

  ‘Try not to think about the discomfort,’ said Thrax, getting back into his cot. ‘Sleep if it’s possible. You’ll feel better in the morning. Do you want me to leave the lamp on?’

  ‘No, thanks. Put it out. You need some rest too.’

  I lay in the dark, trying to stop my teeth from chattering. My stomach rumbled like a volcano about to erupt. To take my mind off the pain, I tried concentrating on the mystery we were trying to solve. There were so many unanswered questions.

  What had the thief stolen from the secret vault?

  Why had Hilarion helped him? He seemed like a trustworthy man to me, not the sort that would betray his master and get involved with criminals and low-lifes.

  What was the mysterious note that Hilarion had passed on to the other man?

  If the flower-picker was only a go-between, who was the real thief? And why couldn’t he show his face in Athens?

  Towards dawn I still had none of the answers and my stomach now felt like someone had filled it with wet sand. My throat was dry, as if I’d been walking in extreme heat. Thrax was still asleep, so I tried getting out of my cot to fetch some water. Big mistake. My legs buckled under me a
nd I crashed to the floor.

  Somehow I managed to crawl back under my himation. How I wished some of the other members of the Medusa League were in Athens. Not just to help Thrax and me with the new mystery at hand, but to give me comfort in my hour of need. There’s nothing like the smile of a close friend when you’re ill.

  Despite the heaving in my stomach, I must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing I knew, Thrax was shaking me gently.

  ‘Nico, wake up. There’s someone here to see you.’

  I forced my eyes open to see the gods had granted my wish. Fotini and Gaia were standing on either side of my cot. ‘Are you really here?’ I asked. ‘Or are you just appearing to me, like shades at the Anthesteria?’

  ‘We’re really here,’ laughed Fotini, sitting down on a stool and feeling my damp brow. ‘Thrax tells me you might have eaten some bad food.’

  Fotini hadn’t changed a bit since last summer. Tall, brimming with confidence and aware of her power, her dark eyes seemed to flash when she talked, hypnotising you. She had rescued Thrax and me from the clutches of deadly pirates on our last adventure, and I thanked the gods she was my friend.

  ‘I’m feeling much better,’ I said, ‘though I doubt I can walk.’

  ‘You must rest,’ insisted Gaia, sitting gently on the edge of the cot. ‘I will look after you.’ She had grown taller since the summer and there seemed to be a new sparkle in her eyes. Maybe Fotini’s confidence was rubbing off on her.

  ‘My tutor in Corinth has sent me to Athens to observe the Anthesteria,’ said Fotini. ‘I am lodging with the priestesses of Athena. But there’s no room for Gaia at the temple, so she’s staying here with Master Ariston’s mother and her slaves.’

  ‘You’ve come at the right time,’ I whispered, sitting up in my cot.

  I’ve told them about the mystery already,’ said Thrax hastily. ‘You’d better rest now, Nico.’

  ‘Thrax is right,’ said Fotini. ‘You must rest. We’ll come and see you again this afternoon.’

  Mater Ariston marched into the room moments after they’d left. He stayed well away from my cot, as if scared he might catch my sickness. ‘You must have offended the gods in some way,’ he snorted, ‘and this is their just punishment. I hope they forgive you and you recover quickly. Meanwhile, I shall have to hire a temporary scribe. I’ll pay him out of your wages.’

  ‘Oh, but I’ll be as right as rain by tomorrow, sir,’ I spluttered. ‘No need to hire a replacement.’

  Master Ariston’s mouth curled into a sneer. ‘My father had this sickness once, after he’d eaten snails. It lasted for days. One minute he’d think he was over it and the next he’d be shaking with fever. I expect yours will take the same path. No, I shall definitely need a temporary scribe.’

  I tried writing some notes in my tablet when Master Ariston left but, though it pains me to say it, his prediction proved to be accurate. I was soon feeling hot again and my face and arms dripped with sweat. This was followed by another chill that made my teeth chatter again. More than once I had to crawl over to the chamber pot in the corner. I was exhausted by the time Thrax came to see me early in the afternoon. He pressed a cup into my hands.

  ‘It’s a herbal potion to help settle your stomach,’ he said. ‘Fotini showed me how to make it. How are you feeling?’

  ‘I think I’m getting better,’ I said, ‘although I think you’re going to have to empty the chamber pot. It’s stinking out the room.’

  Thrax went out with the amis while I sipped reluctantly on the potion. It tasted horrible and, for the first time in my life, I wasn’t in the mood for eating or drinking.

  ‘I went to see Eirene the cook,’ Thrax said when he returned.

  ‘I wanted to check something.’

  ‘Check what? Did you ask her who the little girl from the temple house was?’

  Thrax opened his mouth to speak but I didn’t hear the answer. Just then a stab of pain went through me like a knife. I gasped, dropped the half-empty cup and passed out.

  Later I was to learn that a fever took hold of me and I lay squirming and only half conscious on my damp cot for days. The delirium brought with it strange dreams and nightmares in which I battled fierce and terrifying monsters, including the octopus I had so merrily eaten before my sickness. It wrapped its tentacles around my shoulder and laughed, releasing a cloud of foul-smelling ink. In other nightmares, I fled from criminals with pollen-yellow hands and, in the most vivid one, I saw a strange figure creeping through the door into the room…

  ‘Have you the coins for the ferry? I am Charon, the ferryman. It is your time to cross into Hades…’

  I wanted to scream and tell him to go away, to let me be. I was too young to die, surely. But my throat was dry as desert sand. So I kicked out with my legs instead. And then I felt gentle hands on my arms.

  ‘Nico, you are awake.’

  It was Gaia.

  ‘How long have I been asleep?’

  ‘Three days. Oh, Nico, I’m so glad you’ve woken up at last. I’m afraid I have some bad news to tell you. Thrax has gone missing.’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  For Your Eyes Only

  Thrax missing? I struggled to sit up in my cot.

  ‘A boy who sells snails at the market came to tell us,’ said Gaia. ‘He’s a friend of Thrax.’

  ‘Thrax has many friends at the market,’ I said. ‘Did this one tell you his name?’ It was a silly question to ask, but my mind was reeling.

  Gaia shook her head. ‘No he didn’t and I forgot to ask. The boy said he was looking for snails in the scrub outside the Dipylon Gate when he came across Thrax hiding behind a bush. He thinks Thrax was shadowing someone and had sprung into the hiding place when he heard him coming.’

  ‘What made him think that?’ I asked.

  ‘The boy was about to call out a greeting when Thrax raised a finger to his lips and stopped him. The boy hurried on without saying a word but on his way back home, he found Thrax’s himation caught in the bush. Oh, Nico, it had been ripped to shreds by a lion.’

  ‘How did he know the himation was definitely Thrax’s?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ replied Gaia. ‘Perhaps he recognised it. The boy brought it here and Master Ariston identified it.’

  I swung my legs over the side of the cot and stood up slowly to put on my chiton. ‘Have the police been informed?’

  ‘Yes, but it seems they are too busy with other crimes to look for the remains of a slave. Apparently two other people have been killed by a lion outside Athens recently – they were guards who looked after the Acharnian Gate. Mistress said their cloaks were found ripped to shreds outside the gate.’

  ‘How long has Thrax been missing?’ I asked.

  ‘Two days,’ said Gaia. She started sobbing. ‘Oh, Nico, what are we going to do?’

  I put my arm around Gaia to console her. ‘Don’t cry. I know Thrax very well, and I can assure you he’s a match for any lion. I don’t know why, but I have a feeling that he is not really dead. I think something else has happened to him and it’s got to do with the mystery we’re trying to solve. We need to find out what.’

  Gaia looked at me with sudden hope in her eyes. ‘Do you think so? Shall I tell Master Ariston? He’s been crying ever since we got the news. He’s even chopped off some of his hair to show he’s in mourning.’

  It was suprising to hear that Master Ariston had feelings for anyone else but himself, but I didn’t want Gaia to put him out of his misery just yet.

  ‘Let’s not tell anyone for now,’ I said. ‘First we need to get in touch with Fotini. She’ll help us look for him.’

  ‘We cannot reach Fotini at the moment,’ replied Gaia. ‘The priestesses of Athena lock themselves away for the Anthesteria.’

  ‘Then it’ll have to be just you and me,’ I said, surprising myself at how strong and decisive I sounded. ‘The Medusa League to the rescue…’

  Sadly, I only managed to take a few wobbly steps across the room before I cra
shed to the floor. My stomach was feeling better, my head was clearer but my legs were still as weak as a newly born gosling’s. Gaia helped me back to my cot before going off to do her chores.

  I lay on my himation, thinking, till it got dark. By now my legs felt stronger. I crept out to the yard, ignoring the delicious scents wafting out of the kitchen. I placed my best stylus on the household altar as a sacrifice. ‘Please, Mother Hera,’ I begged, ‘help me bring Thrax safely home. I know I sounded confident we’d find him in front of Gaia, but in truth I’m scared. You must help me…’

  There was a knock at the front door even as I stood at the altar. Herakles did not answer it. It was supper time and I guessed he was eating in the kitchen. I answered it instead. A boy stood outside. He couldn’t have been more than nine but he was already muscled, and he was covered from head to toe in dust.

  ‘Is this the house of Lykos the retired sea captain?’ he asked.

  ‘It is,’ I replied.

  ‘I want to speak with Nico the scribe,’ he said.

  ‘You’re talking to him.’

  The boy looked past me into the courtyard. ‘Are you alone?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said. ‘No one can hear us.’

  ‘I have a message for you,’ said the boy, ‘from your friend Thrax.’

  ‘From Thrax?’ I stifled a gasp. ‘Have you seen him? Are you one of his friends from the agora?’

  ‘We’re all friends with Thrax down at the agora,’ grinned the boy. ‘And he didn’t pass the message on to me himself, no. He passed it to a friend, who passed it on to another friend, who passed it on to me. So I can’t say as I’ve seen him with my own eyes. But he’s sent you a note.’

  He reached under his belt and pulled out a scrap of folded papyrus, which he thrust into my hands.

  ‘Thrax said it’s for your eyes only. And that’s all I know.’ He waited on the doorstep, whistling under his breath, until I pulled a coin out of my purse. ‘Thank you, Nico,’ he said. ‘Enjoy the Anthesteria.’