Steven Saylor - Last seen in Massilia

Darkness obscured his face, but I heard him make a strange choking noise between a swallow and a gasp. He drew back. Alarm, or the lameness of his right leg, caused him to stumble. Cydimache lurched forward out of the deep shadows, clutching her robes to her breast; for all she knew, I had struck him a blow.

Zeno looked over his shoulder. "Stay back!" he cried, with a sob in his voice. He turned back to me and drew his dagger. The blade gleamed in the starlight.

His ears were sharper than mine. He suddenly stiffened and lowered his arm. Keeping his eyes on something behind me, he stepped back into the shadows of the colonnade. He slipped an arm around Cydimache, brought his face close to hers, whispered. The two of them withdrew into deeper darkness. "Father-in-law, here you are!"

I gave a start as Davus stepped up beside me. My heart pounded in my chest. I wasn't sure whether to thank him or curse him. Had he spoiled the moment when Zeno might have weakened, or had he saved my life?

I let out a long sigh and stared at the darkness into which Zeno and Cydimache had vanished.

"After tonight, three things are clear," I said, raising a finger to tick the points off one by one. Had there been space in the tiny room I would have paced. Instead, I sat on my narrow bed with my back against the wall, idly tapping the floor with one foot. Davus sat across from me, knocking his cramped knees together.

"First, Zeno recognized this ring." I rolled it between my fingers, studying the strange stone by the feeble lamplight. "His reaction was powerful and immediate."

"Then the ring did come from Rindel, and somehow got left on the Sacrifice Rock when Zeno pushed her off," said Davus. I shook my head. "That doesn't necessarily follow. We don't know for certain that this ring belonged to Rindel; we still don't know for certain that it was Rindel, or even Zeno, we saw on the rock that day; and we don't know, despite your certainty, that the woman we saw was pushed."

"But it must have been Zeno! We saw him limping tonight."

"His limp could have another explanation. He told me it was from a battle wound."

Davus snorted. "I'll wager he had that limp long before he sailed off to battle this morning. That should be simple enough to find out. His fellow officers would know how long he's been limping. Apollonides would know."

"That's easily resolved, then; I'll just interrogate the First Timouchos at my convenience, shall I? But you're right that his lameness isn't something Zeno could hide from his comrades. It would be instructive to know just how long he's exhibited that limp."

I raised another finger and ticked it off: "The second thing we now know for sure is that Zeno truly loves Cydimache. Despite what Domitius told me about her ugliness and deformity, despite Arausio's presumption that Zeno abandoned Rindel and married the First Timouchos's daughter merely to better himself, the two newlyweds share a genuine affection for each other. Did you see them tonight? The way she drew closer to him, to calm him; the way he touched her, casually, almost without thought, yet tenderly. That wasn't an act. I saw a man and woman physically at ease with each other, united by a bond of trust."

Davus snorted. "You could say the same thing about a man and a horse."

"Cydimache is a woman, Davus."

"A woman, a horse-if Zeno is as calculating and ambitious as Arausio thinks, which woman he marries may matter to him no more, and no less, than which beast he takes for transport. All he's looking for is a reliable means to get where he's going, and marrying Cydimache took him straight to the top. But now that he's arrived, he's stuck with her, and he'll have to get her with child if he's to become a Timouchos. So he's forced himself to do the act with her, and for that she's grateful. Why shouldn't she coo and comfort him? And in the process, he's gotten used to her. A man can get used to just about anything in this world-any man who's ever been a slave can tell you that. So Zeno is able to touch her without shuddering-what of it? Especially the way she keeps herself covered; probably she stays bundled like that when he makes love to her, and Zeno just shuts his eyes and thinks of pretty Rindel."

"What! Pictures the girl whom, according to you, he cold-bloodedly pushed off the Sacrifice Rock?"

" 'Cold-blooded'-that's exactly the word for a man like Zeno!"

I shook my head. "No, there's more to this marriage between Zeno and Cydimache than you credit. The way they touched-it reminded me of the way that you and Diana touch, not even realizing it. Yes, exactly the same."

Davus lowered his eyes. A frown pulled at his mouth. With his relentless good nature, it was sometimes easy for me to forget that Davus, too, was far from home, and homesick. He cleared his throat and asked, a little dully, "What was the third thing? You said you knew three things for certain now-that Zeno recognized the ring, that he truly cares for Cydimache… and what else?"

"That Zeno is no coward. The tale he told at dinner made my blood run cold. The things he saw today must have been terrifying, yet he kept his wits about him and brought his men safely home. And he didn't hesitate to stand up to his father-in-law. Zeno has nerve. He has courage. I have to ask myself: Is this the sort of fellow who would push a defenseless woman off a cliff?"

Davus crossed his arms, unimpressed. "He would if she was making trouble for him-the kind of trouble a mad, spurned woman might make for an ambitious climber."

"So you saw nothing good in Zeno? No good at all?"

"Not a thing."

"You seem very sure of yourself," I said quietly.

"Why not? I've met Zeno's type before. Haven't you?" Now it was Davus's turn to tick points off his fingers one by one. "Does he love Cydimache? It certainly profits him to put on a show of pretending to, so he does.

"Is he heroic? Well, if his ship goes down in battle, he'll drown like the rest, so why shouldn't he fight as bravely as the next man?

"Does he have nerve? Undoubtedly. You seem to admire him for talking back to Apollonides in public, but I hardly think you'd like it if I showed that little respect for you, father-in-law.

"Could such a fine fellow kill a woman he once loved, in cold blood? Zeno happens to be good-looking and he comes from a good family, so why shouldn't he be charming and likable? That makes it all the easier for him to get away with something truly outrageous, like pushing a troublesome old lover off a cliff."

Satisfied that he had made his points, Davus tilted back his head, squeezed his eyes shut, stretched his arms over his head, and opened his jaw in a great yawn.

It was time for sleep. I doused the light. The room was so dark that I saw the same blackness whether my eyes were open or shut.

Had I judged Zeno's character so wrongly? I felt weary and confused, like an old hound who can no longer trust his nose and who finds himself, at the end of a long day's wandering, lost in fields far from home.

When I opened my eyes the next morning, I couldn't tell if it was hunger that awakened me or the noise from my stomach, so loud was the growling it made. The windowless room was dim; the only light came from the open doorway and the shadowy hall beyond. Vaguely I heard distant voices, hurried footsteps, and indistinct clattering, the sounds of a great household stirring.

It occurred to me that my preoccupation with Zeno and the incident on the Sacrifice Rock was no more than a distraction, an indulgence to keep my mind off the trouble we were in. Massilia was on the verge of chaos, perhaps complete destruction. It was one thing to pass idle days in the comfort of the scapegoat's house, quite another to face the prospect of house arrest, or worse, in the hands of Apollonides. Rather than twisting my mind around the sins of the First Timouchos's son-in-law, I should probably have spent the previous night doing everything possible to ingratiate myself with Domitius, who might be induced, if I groveled enough, to offer his protection to Davus and me.