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Authors: Gary Corby

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BOOK: The Ionia Sanction
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Cleophantus raced by and kicked Araxes down.

Cleophantus wheeled and drew his sword.

Barzanes and I caught up.

We all dripped with sweat. I was so exhausted I shook. I wanted to get off my horse, but I didn’t know if I had the strength.

Cleophantus raised the sword and said, “This is for Asia.”

I shouted, “No, Cleophantus, we need him alive!”

Cleophantus began his swing.

“Halt!” a man’s voice commanded. “This man is in sanctuary and may not be harmed. Nor may you take him.”

It was one of the priests of the Artemision. Our violent approach had attracted interest from the people at the temple. Men, women, and eunuchs were lined up along the front steps watching. The priest pointed behind us. Sure enough, a stone painted white lay not more than a man’s length from where Araxes was sprawled.

The horse in his moment of death had tossed Araxes far enough to live.

I could have cried.

Cleophantus burst out, “But he’s a murderer!”

Time passed while Cleophantus and I both argued with the priest. Barzanes looked on and said nothing. Araxes sat on the ground while the men standing over him decided his fate.

The priest was obdurate.

“The sanctuary rule must be enforced no matter what the man’s crime. He is welcome to remain here for as long as he wishes.” He looked to Barzanes, obviously recognizing that he was the senior man among us. “Even the Great King has decreed the sanctuary of Artemis is to be respected.”

Barzanes nodded. “You speak truth. Then, Priest, we shall wait outside the bounds. I will have soldiers patrol the border. Unless the man wishes to spend the rest of his life here, we must surely have him.”

“You have the power to order this?”

“I am the Eyes and Ears of the Great King.”

The priest had the look of someone who finds he’s swallowed a bug in his wine.

Barzanes asked, “You will feed this man?”

The priest, suddenly more helpful, said, “There is no requirement for the temple to feed the man, merely to protect him. His friends may bring him food, if he has any friends, that is.”

“I will ring this temple with troops. He will emerge when he is hungry enough, and then he will pay the price for his crimes.”

Araxes was bruised and bleeding, his clothing stained by sweat and horse, but he smiled and said in his pleasant voice, “May Artemis honor you, Priest. I’m willing to stay here as long as necessary for them to go away. Even if they camp outside forever, better a slow death within than what Barzanes would do to me without.”

“No less than you were prepared to do to me,” I growled.

“Practically the same,” he agreed amiably. “Gentlemen, it is obvious whatever activities I may have engaged in are over forever. You want me for only two things: revenge and information. Let us make this easy for each other. If you put away your revenge, I will present you with the information you want, on the understanding I will be permitted to depart Ephesus on the first ship out.”

“You’re willing to sell out your employer?” I asked.

“I won’t be hanging around for the retribution. I wonder what the weather’s like in Carthage?” he mused. “That should be far away enough … I hope.”

Barzanes said, without consulting, “It is unacceptable. You killed the merchant on the lands of the Great King, you must be punished for it.”

“I didn’t kill Brion.”

“You lie.”

“Wait, Barzanes,” I said. “I have more reason to hate him than most, but this might be our best chance to uncover the whole truth.”

“No.” Barzanes refused to make a deal.

I objected, “But he could identify the criminal.”

“He
is
the criminal. That there may be another does not exonerate him. Do you Hellenes let half your criminals go free because they informed on the other half? No, of course not; no honorable man could agree to this. Any city which did such a thing would collapse in lawlessness.”

“All right, what you say is true.”

“I ride to the city for men to surround the sanctuary. Cleophantus, you and the Athenian keep watch.” Barzanes rode off down the road.

Araxes said, “I’m thirsty, I haven’t had a drink since the morning.”

Cleophantus held up his water skin, beyond the white stone. “Come on over. I have plenty.”

Araxes smiled but said nothing. He walked around the temple and I followed, wanting to keep him in sight. Cleophantus mounted his horse and watched us from the border.

A channel had been cut to divert water from the stream that split around the temple. It emptied through a fountain. Araxes used a ladle to drink his fill, then turned in to enter the temple.

He found a niche in a distant corner, which was hung about with tapestries that gave us some privacy.

“Listen, Nicolaos—”

“Call me Nico.”

Araxes smiled. “Nico, I’m probably going to die soon. I’ve seen too many men die to want to go any way but fast. I’ll fall on a knife before I let them put me on the pole.”

I hesitated, then, “What if I can give you a way to not die?”

“I’d take it of course. What do I have to do?”

“Tell me the whole, complete truth, and if I believe you, I’ll let you go. You’ll still have Cleophantus to avoid, but that’s your problem.”

“What happened to men of honor not treating with thieves?”

“That’s Barzanes. I’m much more interested in results. I admit I wanted you very badly at the start, but now I realize you’re like me, Araxes, just some poor fool acting for someone else. The man I want is the one behind it all. But you’ll have to be quick, because Barzanes will be back any moment.”

“How will you explain my escape?”

“You surprised me, knocked me out, and tied me up.”

“I accept.”

“It started with the river, didn’t it? The Maeander River, and the dead farmer.”

Araxes nodded. “I must say you did well to work that out. The farmer found some coins and an old jar. He took it to Ephesus to sell. People do, around here, because they can get more than in Magnesia. Brion saw the amphora—he understood old pots and furniture—and recognized it as valuable. When he saw the picture on the coins he got excited.

“Brion quizzed the farmer closely. The man was guarded about where he’d found the stuff—it was obvious he planned to dig some more himself—but anyone could guess the man had found the stuff on his own land. Brion had to do some research to work out what he had, he found what he needed in the book they keep here in the temple.”

“The part in the Book of Heraclitus about not being able to step into the same river twice, Brion used it to prove he’d found the lost treasure of Polycrates. What everyone takes to be profound philosophy is actually the raving of a madman who knew where the treasure lay buried.”

“So Brion told me. I didn’t pay any attention myself.”

“The philosophers are going to be upset when I tell them,” I said, looking forward to deflating Diotima and Anaxagoras.

He chuckled. “They won’t believe you.”

He was probably right.

Araxes continued, “Brion needed someone to deal with the messier aspects; fortunately he knew someone who introduced him to me.”

“So you dealt with the farmer.”

“It was a quick drowning, perfectly natural for the area. No one questioned it. Afterward, the widow was only too happy to be paid decent money for the property. We packed her off to her brother’s house in Sardis.”

“No unfortunate accident for her?”

“No need.”

“Then you began digging up the stuff and exporting it to Athens. Brion’s trade connections would have been perfect for that. It had to be sent away because any attempt to sell Polycrates’ treasure locally would be spotted at once by people who knew the story.”

“Brion handled that end of it. He hid the coins and gold and silver items in the old amphorae, which he plugged. We split the profits three ways.”

“What went wrong?”

“I don’t know. Brion did something to destroy the operation. The next thing I knew, I had Themistocles on my back. I told you even the toughest hound slinks around a lion, but when the lion has his paw on your neck, you obey. Themistocles ordered me to chase down the letter—well, you know that.”

“You said Thorion died cursing you. You spoke to him?”

“Thorion laughed in my face, even as I had him in a death grip. He said his death didn’t matter, because he’d got word out of the coming invasion. It was news to me; Themistocles had told me nothing.”

If Thorion thought the note he’d written to Pericles was sufficient then he had an odd idea of what constituted a warning. But then, the man was about to die, and if his admission of treason was enough to ease his passing then who was I to argue. I’d faced death myself that day and knew what it did to a man’s mind. The knowledge that he’d confessed his crime might have been his only comfort.

I said, “Thorion spoke of being a traitor.”

“Then it must have been his guilty conscience. I’m told some men have them. Thorion’s only crime was common larceny on a grand scale, fencing stolen antiquities.”

Araxes sat with his back against the wall of the Artemision, the sweat running off him, and caked in the grime of his flight on horseback. “You know, Nicolaos, if Thorion hadn’t got that note off, you would have been none the wiser, you would never have come here, and I would not be sitting in this accursed temple awaiting my end.”

Perhaps Thorion had done a better job for Athens than I gave him credit for. I said, “Thorion saved Athens.”

“That remains to be seen. He certainly gave your people a chance.” Araxes wiped the sweat off his brow. “Themistocles allowed me to finish clearing the site as a reward and to make sure I kept my mouth shut. I told the truth, by the way, when I said you won’t find any more. We cleared it out with the last load.”

“Why did you steal Asia?”

“I didn’t. Themistocles gave her away.”

“What?”

“I
told
you she was in the greatest danger if you returned her, didn’t I? Themistocles told me to make it look like child theft, and his orders were to ‘dispose’ of her. I chose to interpret that loosely. When I saw her, I couldn’t bring myself to harm the child.” He laughed without humor. “The one time I try to do a good deed, and it destroys me. There’s a moral to be had there. I can tell you, my client was not best pleased when the girl reappeared in your company.”

“Why in Hades would Themistocles do such a thing to his own daughter?”

“Dear boy, the Satrap held my life in his hands. This was not the moment to be making personal inquiries.”

“But why sell her in Athens?”

“I had a tight schedule to keep. Ephesus was impossible for obvious reasons. I had to track the courier, preferably before he had a chance to hand over the scroll, but regardless to eliminate anyone who saw it.”

I said, “What I don’t understand is, why Themistocles would want me dead. Why now? The man betroths me to his daughter, and
then
decides to kill me? It doesn’t make sense.”

“My dear boy, can’t you guess? I’m a man of business. What businessman has only one client?”

“What?”

“Themistocles didn’t hire me to kill you. It was—”

“Wait.” I held up my hand. “Let me guess.”

That made Araxes smile. “By all means let us have guessing games. It’s not as if we have anything else to do.”

I cursed myself for an idiot. Of course it wasn’t Themistocles. Hadn’t I myself named all those good objections? Now that I was rid of prejudice, only one person made sense.

I said a name.

Araxes nodded.

The tapestries moved. I thought it would be Barzanes returning, but it was Geros who slipped through, the eunuch who guarded the Book of Heraclitus.

Araxes said, “Well, you took your time getting here. I’ve been stalling for ages.”

I looked from one to the other.

“I had to prepare the horses, brother,” Geros replied.

Uh-oh. I said to Araxes, “The one who introduced you to Brion; it had to be someone who knew what Brion was up to, didn’t it? Someone who was required to be in the room with him whenever he read the book.”

Geros said, “We talked, and when I learned what he was about, and what he needed, I introduced him to my brother.”

Araxes said, “I mentioned, didn’t I, my brother was taken from me at an early age? He was taken for the temple.” Araxes looked thoughtful. “Of course, this will make your story more credible.”

I said to Geros, “The only good news out of this is I get to say, ‘I Told You So’ to Diotima.”

“The priestess is in love with you.”

“Yes, I know. There’s no accounting for taste.”

“It’s why I did not hurt you before. You must marry the priestess and make her happy, or I will hurt you.”

Araxes chuckled. “Haven’t you heard, brother? Nico is betrothed to the girl Asia.”

Geros hit me. Hard.

*   *   *

When I came to I was tied tight with a rag stuffed in my mouth, and that’s how they found me some time later. To say I was not Barzanes’ favorite person would be putting it mildly.

After he finished raving, Barzanes told me two men on horseback had burst from the stables when Cleophantus was on the other side of the temple. Cleophantus had given chase, but they swept around the city wall to the edge of the harbor, where they splashed along the edge of the sea, around the wall, to the docks, then boarded the first boat out.

Barzanes sent Cleophantus galloping ahead to Magnesia with the news of what had happened, an assignment that horse-crazed Cleophantus was happy to accept. For the first time in his life, during the chase, his one skill had proven to be important.

This left me riding back to Magnesia with Barzanes beside me and a small troop of Persian soldiers at my back. Barzanes and I were the only ones of the party who spoke Greek. We were free to discuss whatever we wished.

I said, “Barzanes, the story Araxes told me. You knew, didn’t you? Themistocles had murdered Brion, and you did nothing about it.”

“The word of the criminal is meaningless. He told you this story to distract you, so his brother could walk up and strike you like a dumb ox.”

BOOK: The Ionia Sanction
10.05Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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