Gary Corby - The Marathon Conspiracy

“Not Thea!” Callias exclaimed.

“Thea,” I said.

“Is this true?” Callias asked. “Are you, Thea, the true Tyrannicide?”

Thea said in a small voice, “It is as Nicolaos says. One evening I was walking back from visiting Zeke-I went to see him every spare moment-when I saw coming in the other direction an old man. He shuffled along. It was dark, I didn’t recognize Hippias until he was upon me, and he never recognized me at all.” She stopped and looked at us each in turn. “You must remember, I was thirty-one then, and in my prime. He hadn’t seen me since I was seven.”

Several heads nodded at her explanation.

“Hippias said, ‘Good evening, Priestess.’ I’d never thought to have such a chance. He shambled, like a sick, weak, old man. I boiled with anger that welled up until I couldn’t control it. I drew my knife and I stabbed him in the heart. I stabbed him over and over.” Thea shuddered. “Then, when he was dead and I’d come to my senses, I scratched into the blade the names of the people I’d avenged. I wanted his shade to know why he’d died. I pushed the knife back into him and then I went to tell Zeke what I’d done. Together we carried him to the cave where Zeke and his men had hidden. That’s the entire story. I only regret that I couldn’t kill him before he destroyed my family.”

Callias said, “With your permission, Zeke?”

Zeke nodded.

Callias wrapped Thea up in a massive hug.

“All of Athens owes you a debt, lady, and I look forward to paying it. I shall commission your statue and have it raised upon the Acropolis. You shall stand next to my Leana, whom you avenged.”

Thea pushed Callias back in horror. “Please, no, Callias! I’d prefer no one to ever know. I want my brother Harmodius and his friend Aristogeiton to be remembered as the Tyrannicides.”

“But it’s not true,” Callias said, puzzled. “You know it’s not. This makes no sense.”

“They died for it; I didn’t. Leana too. I remember her.” Thea stopped to wipe away a tear.

“What of my Allike?” Aposila said. “Did you kill her, too?”

Thea shook her head violently. “No! Of course not. I’d never harm a child. Not after what I went through.”

“Thea’s right,” I said. “It’s impossible for either her or Zeke to have hurt Allike. Neither has the strength to dismemb-” I realized Allike’s mother was in the room. “That is, to hurt someone. But luckily for us, the answer to the worst of crime of all-the murder of a child-becomes simple once we remove all the distractions of those other mysteries. There can be only one person who hurt your daughter, Aposila. It had to be a man. It had to be a man who knew of the discovery of the skeleton. That narrows the suspects. What’s more, it had to be a man who stood to lose from the discovery.

“I asked you before, Callias and Aeschylus, what would happen to the man who killed Hippias. You said he’d be a certain winner in the elections.”

“Yes.”

“But what if the man who protected Hippias was up for election? What if we could prove it?”

“He certainly wouldn’t win any election,” said Callias.

“Dead men can’t,” Aeschylus added grimly.

“I thought as much. Then tell me, who is the only man in this case who knew of the skeleton, who has property in Brauron, and who might have hidden Hippias?”

Thea got there first. “Glaucon?” she said.

“Glaucon. Glaucon must have harbored Hippias. It’s the only explanation consistent with everything we know. When Glaucon saw the message from Sabina, he must have opened the scrolls and seen his own name prominently displayed at the end of scroll five. The discovery would have destroyed his chances at the election. In fact, it would have killed him! Glaucon pulled the fifth scroll.”

Callias scratched his head. “But you told me Glaucon confessed, and you didn’t believe him.”

“Glaucon confessed to killing Hippias . When I mentioned the girls, he acted like he’d never heard of them. But that had to be false, because he was the first one to read the report Sabina sent to Athens. Glaucon lied to me. He took credit for a killing he didn’t commit, and then denied all knowledge of the perfidy he did commit.”

“Raiders! Raiders!”

The voices came from outside. Girls screamed.

“Dear Gods, it’s happening again,” Thea whispered.

I was first out the door, but only because I was closest. Sabina was right behind me. Everyone piled out behind us in an untidy heap.

Sabina ran to the end of the bridge. She stood there, staring open-mouthed. On the other side, about to cross, were men, ten or more, and they were armed with spears. Bringing up the rear was-

“Is that Glaucon ?” Callias said, shocked.

“It is,” I said.

“Amazing how he arrives just as he’s revealed to be the murderer.”

“Isn’t it.” My mind was working furiously, and no doubt so was Diotima’s. We exchanged looks, and I knew we were thinking the same thing.

To a man, the temple slaves rushed to the bridge to defend it, and to a man, they went down. The attackers had been prepared for the first rush. Three of the slaves took spear thrusts to the stomach. They rolled on the ground in agony. The other two slaves weren’t so badly hurt. They turned and ran. I couldn’t blame them. No one expects a slave to die for his owners; that they’d tried to protect the girls at all was to their credit.

But now we were exposed.

“Get the girls into the stoa!” It was Gaïs. Everyone looked at her in shock. For possibly the first time in her life, Gaïs had said something that made sense.

Gaïs spread her arms like a net and pushed the girls back into the stoa. Doris joined her. The girls heeded them and ran for cover.

“What do we do now?” Aposila asked.

“We fight,” Gaïs said.

“What have we got to fight with?” I asked Zeke.

“Nothing,” he said bluntly. “This is a sanctuary, not a barracks.” Zeke turned and ran. I stared in shock for a moment. I hadn’t expected that.

I said, “Diotima, take your bow and get up on the roof. Lie low and pick off targets when you see an opportunity.”

“No, Nico. I’ll stay here and-”

“Don’t argue with me,” I said, and I meant it. “I don’t have time to deal with it. Get up there and shoot.”

Diotima blinked, and looked at me as if she’d never seen me before. Then she said, “Yes, Nico.”

I hauled the sanctuary’s only ladder from where it lay against the shed and set it against the back wall of the main building. As I did, Diotima picked up the skirt of her chiton to stuff the material beneath her belt so that her bare feet were clear to climb. She hooked her sleeves over the brooches at her shoulders and scampered up. I handed up her bow and every arrow she owned.

“Are you safely up?”

“Yes, Nico.”

I pulled the ladder away to let it fall to the ground. I grabbed the sanctuary’s axe and used it to smash every rung of the ladder. Good. Even if the enemy broke in, Diotima would be out of their reach.

I dropped the axe to return to the bridge. As I did Aposila ran up from behind, grabbed the axe and followed me. She’d die instantly if it came to real combat, but there was no time to argue with her. Besides, Aposila wasn’t Diotima; Aposila wasn’t my problem.

“I’m ready.” Aeschylus strode into the courtyard. He was dressed in his hoplite armor: the huge round shield painted with the face of a snarling gorgon, the sharp spear in his right hand, and the helmet that covered his face and made him look like a remorseless automaton.

Except that I knew different.