Gary Corby - The Ionia Sanction

“Be careful, Nico.”

I found Themistocles in the paradise, where he rested on a couch within a pavilion dictating in Persian to two slaves. Two soldiers, bodyguards, stood at his back.

I said, “Themistocles, we need to discuss my fiancée.”

He stopped in midflow and said, “Yes?”

“Or rather, I want to discuss the father of my fiancée.”

His eyebrows rose. It is perfectly normal to speak in front of slaves as if they were not there, but Themistocles paused, and for a moment I wondered if he’d refuse, Then he pushed down on the couch to rise. I stepped forward to help him, but a guard stepped before me, while the other pulled Themistocles up with one hand.

Themistocles led the way to the stables, where a handful of slaves were mucking out. Themistocles dismissed them with a word and they went running. He ordered the soldiers to stand sentry at the door.

“We’re free to talk here, Barzanes has no spy holes in the stables.”

I blinked at that one. “You mean he has in the palace?”

“Wouldn’t you, if you were in his position? I don’t know where they are, but I assume they’re there.”

We seemed to have a triangle of players, all hiding something from the others; perhaps a square, if you counted Mnesiptolema.

Themistocles said, “I take it you know Asia is not my daughter.”

“She’s the daughter of Brion, isn’t she? That’s what triggered the whole sequence.”

“If that pest Barzanes hadn’t arrived, I could have killed Brion in the open and there would have been none dare complain, but Barzanes is the Eyes and Ears of the King, with direct access to Artaxerxes, and I am a Hellene among Persians. If Barzanes reported I had abused my position it would have become difficult. Artaxerxes is like Barzanes; they’re both irritatingly moral.”

“You could have let Brion go on living.”

“A man who not only cuckolded me, but sired a child for me to raise? Don’t be ridiculous. You know as well as I do I’d have been well within my rights to kill them both if I’d caught them in the act, and expose the child.”

“You were fourteen years too late.”

“Better late than never.”

“Not for Asia. She’s not a baby you can expose with impunity anymore. None of this is her fault.”

Themistocles sighed. “I told you before, sometimes even I make mistakes. I see now I was hotheaded when I sent the girl away, and she is the best of the brood. It was a mistake made in anger.”

He hadn’t “sent her away.” Themistocles had ordered her disposed of. Now he rewrote history in his own favor.

“Sometimes at night you stand beside the statue of Polycrates. You told me so. My guess is you were standing there the night Mnesiptolema let Brion into the palace.”

Themistocles nodded. “Yes. I thought they must be having an affair. When I checked discreetly next morning and discovered instead she’d taken Brion to meet my wife, I realized it was more complex. I confronted my wife, who on her deathbed admitted the truth.”

I wondered if Themistocles had assisted his wife on her way after hearing her confession, but instead I said, “So you took a troop of soldiers with you, to put Brion on the pole. Is that when you learned of the letter?”

“He begged for his life. A man facing the pole will say or do anything to avoid it.”

I remembered my own behavior and shuddered. “Yes, I know.”

“He babbled something about a letter, offered to tell me of it in return for his life. This was the first I’d heard of the mess my idiot children had made.”

“I see.”

“It was a problem! The letter had to be retrieved, but I couldn’t admit its existence to Barzanes. Nor could I use Persian resources, for the same reason. I stood there in the countryside, wondering what to do, while Brion knelt before me and babbled anything and everything he hoped might buy him life. Then he let slip about Araxes and his fascinating operation.”

“Aha!”

“Yes, the solution suggested itself at once. My soldiers burst in on Araxes at that farmhouse he’d appropriated, and easily overpowered his gang. I offered the scoundrel a continued life of crime in return for recovering the letter.”

“You seem to have a relaxed attitude to disloyal children.”

Themistocles smiled. “Did I not once explain to you that blood comes first? Besides, all cause for conflict with my children will be over the moment the invasion begins, which I can tell you will be soon, because the plan is finished. I can easily keep myself alive until then. You know my children, Nico; I love them as a father should, but we both know that none of them have the slightest competence to carry off a decent plot.”

I nodded glumly. “You’ve got that right.”

Themistocles laughed. “You know, when you first turned up, I thought you must be the assassin they’d called for.”

“I promise you I wasn’t, but what changed your mind?”

“As I said at the time, what assassin in his right mind would call attention to himself as you did: approach his victim with a kidnapped child on a stolen horse? Besides, Araxes assured me the only man who’d read the letter was dead.”

Clearly Araxes had neglected to mention the note Thorion had sent. Well, I wasn’t about to enlighten Themistocles.

“Does this mean Barzanes still has no idea?”

“About the letter? As far as I know, he never found out. If he had, I’m sure I would have heard of it. He’s a strange man, but a powerful one; I could barely believe my luck when he offered for Nicomache.”

“Maybe he’s in love.”

“That cold fish?”

“I feel Barzanes is deeper than he seems.”

Themistocles grunted.

“Themistocles, if Brion traded the information for his life, how come he’s dead?”

“I lied. I kept Brion until Araxes reported back with the letter. When I was sure I no longer needed him, onto the pole Brion went.”

His duplicity was staggering. Themistocles must have read the look on my face because he said, “I want you to know, Nicolaos, I wish you only well. It wasn’t me who hired Araxes to kill you.”

“I know who it was, Themistocles, and I think you do too.”

“I suspect so.”

“I don’t suppose you have any advice?”

“Do I look like someone who can advise about woman trouble? But it’s my order you’ll do her no harm.”

“We’ll have a chat, that’s all.”

“And ensure this little problem doesn’t happen again?”

“Yes.”

“Fine, but if you hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”

“I understand.” I paused. “Asia has no idea about her paternity. Will you tell her?”

“No. Amazing, isn’t it? Of all my children, she’s the one I could have sworn was most like me, and yet there isn’t a drop of my blood in her veins. I do honestly regret ordering Araxes to take her. It was done in the heat of the moment. Of course, you’re upset. I offered you a wife with a defect. Your father would be within his rights to refuse her if you told him. Let me sweeten the deal-”

“Father?”

Themistocles and I jumped as if we’d been hailed by the Gods. The voice had come from above, but it wasn’t male. There in the hayloft, her head poking over the edge, was Asia.

She dropped down, landing in front of Themistocles with a light spring in her knees. She wore the trousers I’d seen before. “You don’t mean that. You’re only saying that to Nicolaos for some trick, aren’t you?”

If Themistocles had been condemned to death, his expression could not have been more tortured. It was the first time I saw from him a reaction that I knew was not calculated.

He said, “I’m not your father.”

Asia hid her face in her hands and rushed from the stable.