CHAPTER V
How was I to go about this, I wondered? I had no special talents that would help me find this murderer. Come to think of it, I had no special talents at all. Granted, I was a fair athlete, but certainly I was not in the same class as Endemion or the other competitors in the games. I had been learning the business of agriculture since my teen years, and although I was confident I would be a better farmer than my father (which is not saying much), our estate was not large enough to enable me to significantly improve the family's fortunes in that regard. I was an absolute loss at the finer arts that a Greek gentleman was supposed to master, those of writing poetry, composing and playing music, and singing. My father had hired several minor sophists over the years to try and teach me the rudiments of these skills, but I had proved a poor pupil, being more interested in the birds and insects outside the classroom window. I was a pretty good hand at hunting, had no problem with reading, and could do enough arithmetic to keep a farm's books. What any of that had to do with solving a crime, I could not say, but I supposed one could apply the basics of logic to the problem and watch what might come bobbing to the surface.
I fingered the small piece of vellum I had requested of the magistrates before I dejectedly trudged home from Nolarion's estate that evening. It was, in effect, a warrant, and authorized me to question all concerned with the incident. All three magistrates had signed the document, although with some hesitation, perhaps fearing I would make a nuisance of myself with the various dignitaries and athletes attending the festival. It had occurred to me more than once that in the eyes of Priene's government officials, it might be just as well if I did not find Tyrestes' killer. In that case, the blame could be easily shifted to myself and Crystheus and our ineptness as priests of the Panionion. I rubbed my tired eyes and sighed. Surely, this could not be the case--I was just feeling downcast by the whole affair.
I was in our own andron, eating a late dorpon of cheese, olives, and bread laid out for me by Selcra. My sisters had all retired for the night, and I could hear my mother singing softly back in her own bedroom. I stopped worrying for a moment and listened to her lilting voice, as she sang a song of weaving and spinning. My father peered at me from the other kline across the room, shifting his position, so that he rested on one elbow.
”Well, my son, how do you intend to go about this?” he inquired curiously, echoing my thoughts exactly. I grinned ruefully at him.
”I am not at all sure, Father. I thought the best place to start would be to speak separately to any of the procession or the crowd that were close to the wine table by the altar gate. One of them could have seen something amiss or out of place.” I shrugged, not sure how to continue.
”You do not have much time, you know. The athletic competitions begin tomorrow morning, with the artistic contests spread between the events. To even start, you will have to search out and discover who was at that location at that time.”
”We know that the magistrates, athletes, and wine pouring girls were all there,” I countered. “That is where I must begin.” Holicius looked thoughtful for few seconds, and spoke softly.
”You must tred very carefully here, boy. Due to the fact that you were one of the last people to touch Tyrestes alive, you know that many people will believe you are polluted by the murder. You will already stand out in the crowd, since you cannot avoid wearing black and cutting your hair short. These things will cause a number of our fellow citizens to regard you warily at best. Add to that the fact that you will be speaking
to high-ranking citizens or their relatives, who may be quick to take offense, and you have a volatile situation to say the least. You must be very cautious in how you approach this issue.”
I stared at him in some surprise and with a little exasperation.
”Father, how will I find out any answers if I must be politically careful whenever I speak?”
”It is not whether you will obtain answers, but rather whether you even be allowed to ask questions in many cases! Even with your so-called warrant, the citizens of this and the other League cities are under no obligation to cooperate with you.” He paused, and added quietly, “All I am saying is that you need to conduct your inquiries in such a manner that the possible witnesses or suspects will either want to cooperate or will feel obligated to, at the very least.”
”In other words,” I reflected wryly,”I can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar?”
”Exactly, my son!” His mouth twitched at the corners. But he then sobered again, and pointed out, “We do not have many murders in Ionia, thank the gods, but remember, once a murderer has become imbued with the miasma caused by his first killing, it becomes easier for him to strike again.”
He rose stiffly, his knee joints popping, as he imparted this final bit of advice, adjusted his cloak in the slight evening chill, and chirped cheerfully.
”Enough of this for now. I am going to commune with your mother, and then retire. Good night, my son.” An embrace, a kiss on the cheek, and he tottered down the hallway toward the sound of Tessesa's soft crooning.
But not enough of it for me, I thought. Mentally, I started a list of those to whom I would need to speak. Unfortunately, right at the top of the list were the three magistrates, Valato, Euphemius, and Nolarion! They were the ones who had held out
the cups to the pouring girls, to be filled with red wine and handed to the athletes. I could not imagine what motive one of them might have for committing such a crime, but perhaps one had seen something out of place and a gentle jogging of his memory could jar it loose.
There was Endemion, of course. Although it was known that he and Tyrestes appeared to be the friendliest of rivals, it was also known that he was just a hair less qualified than his friend. I had observed them competing many times over the past year, and it always seemed that Tyrestes could sprint just a stride faster, throw the javelin and discus just a pace further, and punch just that little bit harder in boxing. The two were far and away the best two athletes that Priene had to offer at these games, but with Tyrestes no longer in the competition, Endemion's chances of winning some or several events were improved just that much more. Yes, I would have to query the muscular Endemion.
Then, there were the other athletes, all of whom had crowded up to the tables for their kylix of ritual wine. Would they know anything? By Zeus, there must be 100 of them, I thought miserably! I only knew a few of their names, but even if I possessed a list of the competitors and their home cities, what an impossible task! Perhaps I could engage Endemion as a source of information, even if he were innocent. He would be familiar with many of the athletes, having met them all at practices over the past week, and could point out which ones had been closest to him and Tyrestes. Must handle Endemion very gently, I reflected.
I supposed that I might be able to obtain some information from the wine pouring girls. Surely, they would not have poisoned anybody, but then again, what if one of them had been spurned by Tyrestes, or worse, secretly used and then spurned? That could be a reason for murder, could it not? I brightened, remembering that Risalla would know which of the girls had poured at the time that the Priene athletes were crowding up to the
table. I would speak to her first thing in the morning!
With this in mind, I fell to considering who else might have seen anything untoward. I was interrupted in my musings by the clattering entrance of Duryattes, our young male slave and the son of Selcra and her husband Dryses.
”Pardon, young master,” he grinned at me. He held out a oinochoai of clear wine mixed with cool water. “Your father sent me in to refresh your kylix.”
I eyed Duryattes specutively, as he poured me more wine. He was about 13 years of age, and had been born here on the estate. His father Dryses had been a loyal retainer of my father's for over 40 years, and Holicius had rewarded him by buying Selcra as a wife some 14 years ago. Duryattes had obviously quickly followed, and had grown up to b
e a quick and agile young fellow. Both his parents were Carian by birth, but their son had little of the barbarian about him, having grown up completely on a Greek estate.
His wits were as sharp as his movements, and the only bad thing I could say about him was that perhaps they were a little too knifelike at times. I sometimes harbored an uneasy feeling that he was laughing at me behind the sleeve of his tunic, so to speak.
”Wait a moment, Duryattes,” I commanded as he began to withdraw. “I wish to speak to you.”
”Yes, young master?” He looked at me in an amused, but just respectful enough manner, standing straight and tall as a young sapling.
”You know that I am to investigate the murder of the athlete Tyrestes?” I inquired gently. “The one that happened this morning?”
”Oh, aye, young master! I overhead you and the master discussing it over your dorpon a while ago!”
”You are familiar with many of the slaves of the city and the gossip that occurs among families of the citizens?”
”Yes, indeed,” he enthused, and then caught his breath. He stared at me closely
for a moment. “Why is the young master asking?”
”The young master is asking because he wants you to join him in apprehending the doer of this foul deed,” I stated flatly. “You know as well as I that the pollution caused by this crime must be dissipated in order to please Poseidon. You can converse with the slaves who were near the altar at the time of the poisoning, while I cannot.”
He eyed me cautiously. “But I am sure that the young master could succeed as well as I in this regard. Besides, you know I have many duties to perform here at your father's estate.”
I could see the light from the oil lamps gleaming in his eyes. Oh, yes, he wanted to be in on this, despite his denials.
”Nonsense, “ I asserted firmly. “You know that the other slaves will tell you much more than what they would tell me. Besides, I am certain my father would release your services to me for the length of the games.” I paused for the slightest moment, and pretended to hesitate.
”Perhaps you are afraid of being infected by the miasma yourself? I could not blame you if you are too frightened to assist me.” Duryattes drew himself up in an indignant pose, and answered with all the bravado a 13-year old could muster.
”I am not afraid, young master! I will find these answers for you if they are there to be found. We Carians fear only the gods of our fathers!”
I chopped his words off swiftly at this rejoinder, as it certainly is not wise to tempt the gods too much, be they Carian or in this case, Greek.
”Very well, then,” I stated calmly, not feeling it necessary to reveal to my young companion that I needed his wholehearted cooperation if he were to do me any good. “We shall set out at dawn tomorrow to investigate this evil deed! Your courage is noteworthy. You may withdraw now.”
”Yes, young master,” he enthused and turned to go. “I will not fail you!” I
listened to him skipping up the hallway back toward the kitchen, and with a gusty sigh, took a swallow of wine. If only my inquiries would be so easy, please the gods!
”This is ridiculous!” I thought sourly the next morning, as I strode in the glaring sunshine through the main gate of the city on my way to the stadium. I fingered the black linen of my tunic with ill-concealed disgust, and ran a hand through my grizzled hair. My mother had certainly done a thorough job, I reflected ruefully, as I scratched the top of my head. I doubted that my hair was more than an inch long anywhere. Now mind you, I am not a vain man, but my very average looks were not enhanced by having hair so short, that it rivalled that of a slave on the sales block. When you considered the fact that Tyrestes had not even been a friend of mine, you might conclude I was not enamored at my parents' insistence that I abide by all the social conventions that revolved around the proper observances of grief for the death of a loved one. It would take me a cursed year to grow my hair back enough to appear halfway decent on the streets!
And to make matters worse, it was going to be a burning hot day on this first day of the games. Even at this early hour of the morning, I could already feel the sweat gathering under my arms and on the back of my neck. By midday I would undoubtedly look like a fugitive from one of the acting troupes here for the comedy presentations, with the hastily applied dark dye of my tunic running down my arms and legs. My mood blackened to match the color of my tunic.
Upon arising that morning with an aching head from a combination of too much wine and too much thinking, I had eaten a light ariston breakfast out in the rear courtyard just after sunrise. My mother and sisters were already gathered outside by the time I grumpily arrived, chattering gaily like so many pretty birds, dressed in their best finery in anticipation of watching several athletic contests and perhaps a few plays today in the city. Tesessa looked at me knowingly, as I flopped down onto a bench and accepted the proffered clay plate from Selcra. My mother looked lovely, her dark but graying hair piled in great profusion on the top of her head and secured in placed with long gold pins. Her tanned face was dark and healthy, and she had not yet applied the lead powder she used for whitening her complexion.
”And what will you be up to, my son, as we are observing the festivities?” she inquired. No fool, my mother, she was well aware of what my father and I had been discussing last night. In fact, she probably remembered more about it than I did, considering the lateness of the hour when Holicius had left her bedroom to retire to his own. I smiled at her in a great show of white teeth.
”Why, nothing of particular import, Mother. I thought I would take Duryattes and go observe the opening foot races in the stadium. Some people might be there with whom I would like to have a word.”
”Well, you cannot go until I cut your hair to a respectful length for a mourner. Selcra also dyed a tunic for you last night. You can change into it after ariston.”
She eyed my snowy white tunic with disapproval.
”You might also be mindful to take care when you speak to others about this dreadful crime,” she added softly, her brow furrowing with concern. She touched me lightly on the arm, as I stuffed a fig into my mouth. I smiled at her and nodded. She turned to call my sister Risalla over to my side.
”Risalla, come here, child, and speak to your brother,” she ordered peremptorily, and motioned with a shapely hand for her third daughter to sit beside me on the bench. Risalla threw herself on the seat with a jarring thump, and her happily rosy face beamed up at me. I peered at her dubiously, smearing some honey on a thick piece of bread. Risalla's good nature was so outgoing it was almost annoying at times. One came away from Risalla with the feeling that one could get bowled over backwards if one was not careful. It was not that I disliked her as much as it was that the combination of her wide smile and vacant eyes tended to whittle my temper down to a fine edge.
”Let us talk about yesterday at the altar ceremony,” I suggested in a quiet but firm tone. Her ebullient manner dampened as she looked away from me and stared at the ground. It was not every day that a young girl witnessed a healthy young man's death. As a country girl she was familiar with suffering and death, but one must admit there is a great difference between the end of life for an animal as compared with that of a man.
”I do not know what I can tell you,” she whispered. “ I only saw Tyrestes fall down and then you gathered him into your arms. I did not see anything else.”
”I am not so much concerned by what you saw when he died,” I asserted, “ as I am with what you may have observed or heard prior to his actual death.” She quickly raised her eyes from the ground, and stared at me.
”What do you mean?” she asked, her lower lip trembling. I laid my plate aside, and took her hand in mine.
”I want to know what you may have seen or heard during the procession or at the wine pouring ceremony that might help me in my investigation. You know that I have been charg
ed with finding the foul individual who committed this terrible crime?” She nodded slightly, her eyes beginning to shine with unshed tears.
”Think back to the wine pouring yesterday,” I suggested. “Did you see, perhaps, anybody handle a cup strangely or place anything in a cup before or after one of you girls poured wine for the athletes?”
She considered for a moment, then shook her head vigorously, her curls bouncing on her shoulders. With her mind on a subject other than Tyrestes' actual death, she brightened a bit.
”No, I cannot remember anything like that, but it was so exciting and crowded, that I suppose someone could have mishandled a cup and I would not have noticed. I was very busy pouring myself, you know, and poured for more athletes than any other girl!” A wide smile broke out on her sun dappled face as she recalled the glorious moment in her mind. I bit my tongue, not wanting to frighten her by my impatience.
”Quite so,” I congratulated her,” and it was well-deserved too. Do you remember who gave the cup of wine to Tyrestes himself?”
Risalla stared at me in perplexity, and considered the question for several long moments. Then she shook her head again.
”It was one of the magistrates, of course, but I do not know which one. I am sorry, Bias, but everything was so exciting, and there were other people gathered around besides the athletes. I was so busy pouring that I just did not notice.”
”What about the procession itself? Did you talk to any of the other girls during or before the parade?”
My sister laughed at this, and flounced her curls with both hands, recalling the colorful clothes, exotic perfumes, and many handsome men and beautiful girls.
”Oh, yes! It was wonderful and fascinating! There were so many of my friends and so many gorgeous men there! I must have spoken to a hundred of them!”
She clapped her hands at the memory, as I smiled weakly at this assertion, and then reaffirmed my resolve. I looked at my mother for assistance. She nodded slightly at me.
”Daughter,” she said firmly. “Did you speak to any of the girls about any liaisons they may have had with any of the athletes?”
”Liaisons?” echoed Risalla, looking curiously at Tesessa, who glanced at me knowingly. “What do you mean, liaisons?” My mother sighed.
” I mean, did any of the girls confide in you about love affairs they pursued with the young men? I was once your age, Daughter. I do know what young women talk about to each other in the rare moments they are together and away from their men!”
Risalla blushed furiously, and wound her hands in the folds of her chiton. Her eyes would not meet those of my mother.
"Oh, no, Mother," she protested feebly. "I have never talked to anyone about such things!" My mother, knowing that this was exactly what my precocious, robust sister would talk about, grimaced and then grasped Risalla's chin with her hand, forcing her to look into her eyes.
”Do not play with me, Daughter. Your brother is charged with a serious responsibility, the outcome of which could effect the honor and reputation of this family! Let me ask again -- who did you speak to about their doings with the athletes?”
At this, Risalla burst into tears, and threw herself into the arms of my mother. Tesessa patted her on the back and murmured soothingly to her, glaring at me over the top of her daughter's head, until the sobs resolved themselves into gulps and then sniffs. At last, my sister disentangled herself from my mother's embrace, and peeked at me from the corner of her eye while hanging desperately onto Tesessa's hands.
”There were only a few who knew anything about men,” Risalla admitted. “But they all pretended they did. I do not know who was serious and who was jesting!”
”Which of the girls in particular do you think may have actually met with an athlete and gone beyond mere conversation?” I asked baldly. “Think, Risalla!”
My sister's distress was now turning to curiosity. I had a fleeting thought that perhaps she was not quite so empty-headed as I believed. She reflected on the problem for several minutes, smoothing the folds of her chiton about her stocky body as she considered.
”Well, there were several girls who bragged about their introductions. But none of them actually said they had done anything.”
I sighed with pent-up exasperation, and started to rise. My sister forestalled me
by lifting her hand slightly in my direction.
”There were two girls who appeared to know more than the rest of us,” she considered, looking now at my mother, who nodded encouragingly at her.
”How do you mean, 'know more'?” I asked impatiently. My mother shot a quick glance at me that clearly said -- be silent and wait.
”Two of the wine girls gave the rest of us the impression that they really knew what they were talking about. I mean, all of us know about how things are done -what with the farm animals and all. But these girls seemed to...seemed to...” She did not finish the sentence. Tesessa looked at me with a very slight but clearly triumphant smile.
”Who are these girls?” I inquired gently, again clasping one of Risalla's hands, and holding it closely with both of mine. My mother nodded at me approvingly over my sister's shoulder.
”One is Billasa, the daughter of Kreton, and the other is Ossadia, the daughter of
Valato,” she said finally. I heard Tesessa's sharp intake of breath.
”Now listen carefully,” I said, making her look into my eyes. “Did either of them mention with whom they supposedly had adventures?”
She considered me deeply for a moment, and then the light of understanding dawned in her eyes. I swear I could see it, just like the sun bursting over the top of a hill to dispel the night. She gripped my hands tightly.
”Not by name. That would never do! But perhaps in another way!” She looked up at me appealingly, her eyes widening.” One of them said she was involved with an athlete from Miletus, but the other one hinted that her admirer was one of the competitors from Priene!”
No amount of questioning on my part had been able to uncover which girl was dallying with the Miletian athlete and which one wanted the homegrown boy. Even my mother's gentle prodding of Risalla failed to penetrate my sister's whirling memories of those few moments in such an exciting day. And so, as I entered the western gate to the city of Priene, I had two more people to add to those I should question. And to make matters more difficult, they were the daughters of two prominent citizens of the state!
It would be a miracle if the fathers permitted me to speak to their daughters at all on any subject, much less on the subject of possible murder. Would any father believe that his daughter had dallied with a young man prior to marriage, much less murdered the young man later on? I almost laughed aloud in derision, when I considered the prospects of my broaching the subject to the two fathers. Valato, of course, I have already mentioned. He was one of the city magistrates, he of the bald head, short light brown beard, and cutting and sarcastic oratory. I shuddered to think of what would happen if I approached him and informed him humbly that his daughter had been fooling around with a young man, perhaps even the murdered Tyrestes. Gods, the investigation would be over in a heartbeat and my career in Priene would go with it!
The other father, if anything, was even worse than Valato. Kreton was a prosperous, aristocratic landowner whose estates were among the richest in the Meander Valley. His horses were known far and wide, rivalling the best that Colophon had to offer, and his grape vineyards produced some of the finest wines this side of Chios. Physically, he was a huge man, capable of breaking normal mortals such as me like a stick with his bare hands, and in addition, he had three huge sons who were equally as ferocious. In fact, Krelonan, the eldest of the three, was the champion wrestler of Priene, and was widely expected to easily win the heavy class championship at the games. I could just see myself asking to speak to the beautiful Billasa, and being hounded through
the olive groves by these three baying giants.
r /> Considering these various scenarios, I eliminated the possibility of directly approaching these two lovelies, and instead determined to seek out the magistrates for private conversations. Although the waters in that direction were potentially just as dangerous, perhaps I could smooth them with logical thoughts and patriotic gestures.
The probable location of Valato, Nolarion, and Euphemius was not hard to determine. This being the opening day of the games, they would be at the stadium to observe the initial footrace and jumping competitions. With Tyrestes doing all his athletics against other shades in Hades, Priene's greatest hope in the combined events lay in the prowess of Endemion, and all the citizens of the city would be there to cheer him on, as well as support the other athletes in the individual events.
Simultaneously, I had unleashed Duryattes with instructions to seek out any slaves who had been present at the wine pouring ceremony. He had accompanied me as far as the city gate, and then had made tracks for the agora, the market place, where we knew he would find other servants eager to fill in each other's gaps of knowledge and rumor concerning the murder of Tyrestes. Duryattes' quick mind and cunning personality would function best in the slave shadow world of innuendo and rumor that seethed below the normal, daylight world of the citizen. But before we had left the house that morning my father had pointed out that I was not free to subject the boy to dangers without his permission. Yawning and smacking his lips, he had wandered out into the courtyard for his ariston, just as I was preparing to leave with Duryattes.
”Take great care with how you utilize the lad,” cautioned Holicius, wagging a warning finger in my face as he nibbled on a chunk of goat cheese and popped an olive
into his mouth. “I have known his father Dryses since I was a youngster. As you know,
we grew up together, and he was my constant companion and guardian. It would grieve him greatly, if his only child were to come to some harm because of you.”
I regarded my father gravely, as I considered the import of his statement. He was
a firm believer in the superiority of the Greek over the barbarian, even barbarians as Hellenized as the Lydians. On the other hand, he also believed that we had a solemn responsibility to those who belonged to our family, and this responsibility included insuring they were as happy and healthy as possible in the context of their situation. He was particularly fond of Duryattes, whom he saw as the living embodiment of his gift of Selcra to his lifelong companion, Dryses.
”I promise not to place him in any peril, Father,” I pledged. “I plan to have him converse only with the other slaves in an attempt to dig beneath the surface of this crime.
You know it is likely that the slaves and servants will possess information that is not available to me, but could be yielded up to him. I will insure that he is not involved in any physical danger.”
”And yourself, as well!” added Holicius, staring at me and tugging at his beard.
”Do you remember what I said last night? Dark thoughts will burrow underground in the light of day, but they will still be there, watching and waiting.”