Master Ariston’s lips quivered like a landed carp’s. ‘How did you know the barber only has three fingers? You didn’t come to the barbershop with me. I left you here to get my clothes ready.’
‘He left greasy marks on your purse as he robbed you, master. They indicate he has only three fingers. The other two were chopped off as punishment for cheating at the gambling table.’
‘Poor fellow,’ said Master Thrax as he pulled the strings on his purse to close it. ‘The law can be too harsh sometimes.’
‘It wasn’t the magistrate who ordered the punishment. It was his friends, the other gamblers. That’s how they deal with cheats in the gambling world. They have no need of magistrates, just a sharp knife.’
Master Ariston shuddered at the thought and stuck his purse back under his belt. ‘I must say, the gods have blessed you with a rare talent, Thrax. You pick up on the tiniest details. I have a good mind to report the barber and his finger-chopping friends to the archon but I don’t want to spoil tonight for the sake of a few coins. And I do want to visit his establishment again soon. I hope the fool sees the error of his ways or he might only have two fingers left by then. You can’t give a gentleman a good haircut with only two fingers, surely.’
‘Master,’ said Thrax, now that he seemed to have Master Ariston’s full attention. ‘I’ve been thinking about the oracle’s prediction and…’
Ha, I thought, so that’s what’s been on his mind.
‘The message was very clear, wasn’t it,’ said Master Ariston. ‘No doubt about it. I am going to be a tremendous success, a shining light in the world of theatre. Now put away the mirror and fetch me my boots – no, my new sandals with the golden buckles. They’re more comfortable. I hope you’ve oiled the leather to make it shiny. This is the most important night of my entire life. Think of it, boys! If one of those wealthy gentlemen in the audience likes my play, they will pay to have it put on at the great festival in Athens. My name will be celebrated all around the world. If I win first prize, they might even put up a statue of me in the agora. What joy! My own father would have to walk past it and nod at it every day.’
Master Ariston did a slow twirl to inspect his new chiton. He’d had it made especially for tonight and it was embroidered with a beautiful blue pattern round the edges.
Satisfied with his appearance, he put on his sandals. I handed him his new alabastron, a special one shaped like a pomegranate for good luck. He sniffed its contents before sprinkling some perfume on his face.
Thrax had been given a new chiton with a blue pattern that matched Master Ariston’s. But I, who had to buy my own clothes out of my measly pay, was forced to make do with an old one. It had a few rips which my mother had carefully mended the last time I went to visit her. You could only see them if you knew where to look but I felt rather shabby as we crossed the yard towards the andron.
By now the house was buzzing with guests who had come to see the play. A few of them I recognised from the last time we had been in Corinth, but most were strangers. Still, I knew they were all powerful people who could make or break Master Ariston’s new career. Master Zenon bustled in with an older man by his side. This gentleman was dressed in a purple himation that reached his feet, and he kept wiping his sweaty forehead with a piece of white cloth.
‘This is my friend Dymas,’ Master Zenon said to Master Ariston. ‘He knows your father as well. We were all in the navy together.’
Dymas insisted on sitting on a couch at the back of the room, where he could observe the audience’s reaction to the play. He was soon joined by a familiar face whose voice boomed across the andron.
‘Thrax! Nico! How are you, boys?’
It was Odius the Elder, a famous magistrate whom we had befriended the year before. He had been an important figure in our adventure, and had saved our lives.
‘They’re well, thanks,’ answered Master Ariston on our behalf. ‘A bit nervous like me. A lot is riding on tonight’s performance.’
‘I’m sure it’ll all be fine,’ said the archon as he settled back on a cushion with a loud, contented sigh.
Master Zenon nodded at Ahmose, his Egyptian chief-of-staff, and slaves appeared as if out of nowhere bearing dishes of food and jugs full of wine. Earlier in the afternoon I’d been hungry. I’d even tried sneaking into the kitchen in the hope that Cook would give me one of her delicious honey cakes. But suddenly I was too nervous to eat.
Master Ariston was right. A lot was riding on tonight’s performance. What if the audience really did like the play – enough for someone to stage it in Athens? That would mean Master Ariston’s dream would have come true. But it would also mean he would be a travelling poet no longer. We would stay at home in Athens. There would be no more travelling, and perhaps no more mysteries to solve...
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ Thrax whispered into my ear as we sat on the floor near Master Ariston’s couch.
‘Do you?’ I said, surprised.
He smiled. ‘You look troubled but you needn’t be, take my word for it. I’ve analysed the...’
His words were cut short by Ahmose, who clapped loudly. ‘Gentlemen, we thank the gods and Master Zenon for their generosity in providing us with food and wine tonight. The performance is about to start but please keep your cups. And just nod at one of the household staff if you need more wine.’
As the slaves cleared away the dirty dishes, I noticed Ahmose drawing a silk curtain across the back door of the andron.
I nudged Thrax. ‘Look.’
Two figures appeared behind the curtain. They both sat down, one on a throne-like chair with a tall back, the second one on a stool. I knew who they were right away. Our friend Fotini and Gaia, her slave girl. Women are not usually allowed to sit with men in the andron but I guess some girls are too powerful and clever to be held back by silly rules.
Just then Master Zenon showed in a late guest. A murmur ran through the audience as he took a seat right at the front of the andron.
‘It’s Euripides,’ Master Ariston squealed at Odius. ‘Why, the dear fellow has come to see my debut. I am so honoured.’
‘I believe he is in town rehearsing a new play,’ said Odius. ‘Master Zenon invited him to come and listen to the reading.’
Slaves moved the lamps to one end of the andron where a small platform had been set up as a stage. Their light fell on a statue of Dionysus, the god of theatre, which Master Zenon had bought especially for tonight. A musician came in and played the harp. He was a short fellow with wide shoulders and he wore a grinning mask with closed eyes. I had never seen one like it before and wondered how he could play the harp so well without seeing. When he finished, four actors in masks and flowing himations appeared onstage. They carried scrolls in their hands, to read the various parts out loud. One of them announced the name of the play – The Dolphins by Ariston of Athens.
Master Ariston had based his play on a legend about the god Apollo travelling to take over the oracle at Delphi in the shape of a dolphin. It’s a sacred story, well known by all, but he had turned it into a comedy, with dolphins singing rude songs and Apollo smashing his lyre on a water nymph’s head.
The audience were confused by the jokes at first. There were a few titters, but mostly embarrassed silence. The actors, feeling the tension, started fluffing their lines.
Gradually, as the performance continued, the silence turned to raucous laughter. It lasted till the final line of the play when the actors stood up and took off their masks. The audience rose to its feet, cheering and shouting.
‘Well,’ roared a sea captain who I’d seen at a symposium before. ‘Those actors were brave men indeed.’
‘Brave?’ questioned Master Ariston.
‘It takes courage to stand in front of an audience and perform rubbish like that.’
Master Ariston’s face turned a bright scarlet. ‘Did you not hear the merriment, sir? The audience loved my work. They laughed at every one of my clever jokes. Perhaps you don’t understand
satire. How about we ask the great Euripides for his opinion?’
He turned to the front of the andron, but the famous playwright had already slipped away.
‘My dear fellow,’ sneered the sea captain. ‘The audience wasn’t laughing at your jokes. It was laughing at YOU. You’ve got some nerve coming to Corinth looking for sponsorship. Your work is terrible, absolutely without merit. You’re no more a playwright than I am a dancing river nymph.’
CHAPTER 2
A Ship in the Night
‘Poor Master Ariston is devastated,’ I said. ‘His career as a playwright is finished before it even started.’
Thrax and I were sitting with Fotini and Gaia in their quarters, eating the last of the summer figs and grapes. The house was deathly quiet after the hubbub of the play. The windows were open to let in the night breeze. We had to speak quietly because men are strictly forbidden from visiting the women’s part of the house, the gynaikon.
‘I did try to warn him that he might not have interpreted the oracle’s advice correctly,’ replied Thrax. ‘The more I thought about it, the more I realised the Pythia meant that people would laugh at him, rather than the jokes in his comedy. Sadly, I was right.’
‘I should imagine your master will go back to singing and poetry,’ said Fotini, ‘and you two will continue to visit interesting places. I wish Gaia and I would come with you, and I dare say we will before too long.’
Master Ariston remained locked in his room for three whole days, too upset to eat or wash. Not even Thrax was allowed in to empty the chamber pot and air the room. Listening secretly at the door, we heard him cursing and tearing up papyrus scrolls.
‘I shall never write another word again,’ he screamed, smashing something against the wall. We guessed it was the beloved statue of Apollo that he carried with him everywhere he went.
Then on the fourth day, Cook came into the kitchen bursting with excitement. ‘Master Ariston is out of his room,’ she whispered grandly. ‘He has come downstairs to the andron. Something very important is happening. Come with me, quick. But don’t make any noise.’
Thrax and I had offered to knead the dough for the bread and were covered in flour but we tiptoed after her to the door of the andron. A small gaggle of household slaves had already gathered, eavesdropping through the curtain.
‘I am sorry about what happened earlier this week, young Ariston,’ we heard Master Zenon say. ‘As an old friend of your father’s, I feel duty-bound to help you, and my old friend Dymas here has a practical suggestion.’
Master Ariston sniffed dramatically. ‘I dare not show my face outside this house, gentlemen. All of Corinth is laughing at me. And I dare not return shamefaced to Athens either. I am sure the news has travelled there by now.’
‘My nephew Inacus lives on the island of Aegina,’ continued Dymas in a gentle voice. ‘He has asked me to find a tutor for his young son, Hero. Why don’t I recommend you for the post? The men of Corinth didn’t take to your play but Zenon assures me that you are a first-class poet and singer. I’m sure my cousin will accept you as his son’s teacher.’
‘It will give you the opportunity to earn a decent wage until your muse returns,’ said Master Zenon. ‘And then you can go home with your head held high.’
Master Ariston cleared his throat. ‘This is most generous of you, gentlemen. Thank you. I would like that very much.’
‘Your father saved my life during a sea battle,’ declared Dymas. ‘I am forever in your family’s debt.’
‘That’s settled, then,’ said Master Zenon. ‘Dymas will write you a letter of introduction and you can leave for Aegina as soon as you feel able to.’
The men got to their feet and the household slaves scattered before they were caught eavesdropping. Thrax managed to hide behind a potted tree but I didn’t move quickly enough.
‘Nico, what in the name of the gods are you doing here?’ asked Master Ariston, coming through the curtain. ‘You’re covered in flour.’
‘I… I was coming to see if you needed me to write anything down,’ I murmured.
‘I don’t know whether I’ll ever be able to write anything again,’ replied Master Ariston, still feeling sorry for himself. ‘The oracle’s cruel joke on me has shattered my confidence. I should let you go. The sight of a stylus or a writing tablet brings me to tears. But I know you have an aged mother and father to support so I suppose I shall have to keep you on, as long as you never mention the theatre to me again. Find Thrax and give him the news. We are going to Aegina.’
Master Ariston’s statue of Apollo had been smashed to bits. I helped Thrax scoop up the pieces into a bag. We couldn’t throw them on the rubbish heap for fear of angering the god.
‘Whatever are we going to do with them?’ I wondered.
‘Just put them in my trunk,’ replied Thrax. ‘I might be able to put the statue together again.’
It seemed an impossible task but Thrax never gives up on anything. He actually relishes doing things other people find difficult.
We aired the room, then sneaked upstairs to see Fotini and Gaia again. To our surprise, they already knew about our journey to Aegina.
‘The gynaikon is directly above the andron,’ Gaia explained with a giggle. ‘Mistress Fotini has made a cone out of stiff linen. When we place it on the floor and put our ear to it, we can make out every word being said below.’
‘And we have made our own plans too,’ Fotini announced. ‘Gaia and I are coming to Aegina with you.’
Thrax and I looked at her in surprise. Usually rich girls can only leave the house for festivals and trips to the temple.
‘How will you manage that?’ asked Thrax.
Fotini grinned. ‘You know I am training to be a priestess. I shall tell my teacher at the temple of Aphrodite that I want to study and train with the priestesses of Aphaia. There is only one temple to that goddess and it’s on Aegina. Father would never dare say no to a high-ranking priestess.’
‘I shall bring my Medusa League pendant with me,’ said Gaia. ‘Just in case we have a mystery to solve when we’re there.’
‘You should always wear your Medusa pendant,’ I replied. ‘We all do. It’s not only a sign that you belong to the league, the gorgon will also ward off evil and bring you good luck.’
It took three days for Dymas to write Master Ariston a letter of introduction and have it delivered to Master Zenon’s house. Master Ariston kept us busy while we waited. Thrax washed and packed master’s clothes. He scrubbed and polished all twenty-two items of his footwear. I helped him roll up all the scrolls in master’s portable library and stow them in their wicker basket. Thrax insisted on packing them in alphabetical order, so he could find each title quickly when Master Ariston asked for it.
I mixed fresh ink to take with us, despite Master Ariston having sworn he would never write another word. I was praying to the gods he would change his mind soon. Even though his songs were as worthless as his plays, I had to admit I missed writing them down for him.
Thrax started putting the smashed statue of Apollo back together, using a powerful and invisible glue that I cooked up from the bones of animals.
By the time he’d reassembled the head and neck, the letter was delivered and it was time to leave. Ahmose helped Master Ariston clamber on to Ariana, our donkey, and Thrax handed him his precious lyre in its cedar-wood box. I made sure I had all my writing implements in my bag.
We were praying to Hermes for a safe journey when two more donkeys came trotting round the corner. Sitting on the first one were Fotini and Gaia, both wearing petasos and flowing himations. A tall man with scars on his arms led the other donkey. His name was Hector and he was a slave at the temple of Aphrodite. He would protect the girls till they returned home. A priestess from the temple of Aphrodite sat on the donkey, holding an Egyptian sun umbrella over her head.
‘Her name is Agathe,’ Fotini informed us. ‘She is my teacher.’
Master Zenon came to the front door as the donkeys
started their way down the street. ‘The gods go with you, my daughter.’
Fotini waved back. Her mother had come to the doorway too, her face hidden behind a shawl.
‘Goodbye, Father, Mother! Please don’t worry. Great Aphrodite will protect me and Gaia.’
Corinth lies on the western side of a stretch of land known as the Isthmus of Corinth. At the other end, on the eastern side, is a busy port called Cenchrea. From here we would take a ship to the island of Aegina.
We travelled along a well-known road called the Diolkos. It is as busy as it is famous. Sailors drag their ships along it. It saves them having to sail all the way round the southern part of the mainland, where the sea is often stormy and pirates are a constant danger. Thrax and I had made the journey before so we knew what sights to point out to the girls.
As luck would have it, when we reached Cenchrea, we found a merchant ship ready to sail. It was heading for Egypt but it would stop at Aegina on the way, to deliver grain and pick up olives. With the donkeys safely stowed at the stern, we offered sacrifice to Poseidon for a safe journey.
‘I hope the great god hasn’t found out about Master Ariston smashing that statue,’ said Fotini. ‘He might put a curse on this ship.’
Gaia’s eyes grew wide with horror. ‘But the gods know EVERYTHING.’
We offered a generous helping of barley seeds to make sure Poseidon would not stay angry with Master Ariston. The ship shuddered as the oarsmen manoeuvred it out of the harbour and the captain ordered the sail to be raised.
The sea around Aegina and its sister islands is always busy with ships of every kind. In the fading light, we saw merchant traders like ours, almost capsizing under the weight of their cargo. We spotted triremes with their banks of oars rising and falling, and little fishing boats setting out with hunting nets for squid and octopus.
But as night fell, the sea was deserted, as captains were fearful of pirates and treacherous rocks. Our ship should have stayed in harbour till dawn but a rich passenger had paid the captain to sail through the night. His elderly father was dying and he wanted him to sign important documents before Hades claimed his spirit.
Pirates of Poseidon Page 2